


A Normal Life

by Unknownmusic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Young Dracula
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Full Vampire Vlad, Gen, Non Series 5 Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 193,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknownmusic/pseuds/Unknownmusic
Summary: Before moving to Stokely, before discovering his true power, before things had just gone down the drain, Vladimir "Vlad" Dracula, son of the infamous Count Dracula, was invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry upon his eleventh birthday. In a world where wizards, vampires, and other magical creatures live, Vlad must find his place among them all.Transferred from FFnet.





	1. An Unknown Letter

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Young Dracula, Harry Potter, or anything else that can get me sued. 
> 
> Thank you for leaving comments! I love reading feedback and general responses; they inspire me!

**Chapter 1: An Unknown Letter**

All Vlad had ever wanted was a normal life. He wouldn't have minded a typical suburban home in a typical neighborhood with a typical life entirely consisting of going to a typical school, taking a typical walk home, and hanging out with a couple of typical friends. He wouldn't have even minded the woes of growing up as a teenager or the commonplace friendship spat if that came with the packaged deal of normalcy. Was that really so much to ask?

Apparently it was. Why else had fate decided to have him end up with the surname Dracula?

Yes, _that_ Dracula. His father had, in fact, allowed his name to be used in the novel. He had always been one for attention and the notoriety it gained him made him a veritable celebrity in the vampire circles for decades. His father still looked upon it with favor; it was how he had come to meet his flighty mother after all.

Growing up in a dark, gloomy castle in Transylvania with no interaction with the local humans – or Breathers as the vampires called them – had only allowed Vlad's desire for a life free of coffins, cobwebs, fangs, and blood to grow. For all of his ten years of life, Vlad had only ever seen the occasional vampire visitor and his only constant company had been his elder sister and father. It became tiring after so long. He didn't understand how his sister reveled in it as much as his father did and he could not see how being a bloodthirsty, virtually immortal being could be appealing. It not only made all of the vampires he had met so far lean towards the evil spectrum but it also made them dull creatures to live with. Would it have really hurt his father to add a drop of color here and there outside of the typical black and crimson scheme?

"Oh, Vlad. Must you wear those atrocious colors again?"

Vlad sighed as he jabbed a fork into the unknown mush their mortal butler Renfield– and that was the most flattering way to describe the filthy man – had prepared for breakfast. "They're interesting, Dad."

The Count shuddered. "Far too bright, my boy. Far too bright. I don't understand why you insist on them."

"Maybe because he is a useless wimp," Vlad's sister, Ingrid, sneered. "I prefer darker colors myself."

Their father rolled his eyes. "And I care why, Ingrid?"

There was a brief flash of hurt in Ingrid's eyes that Vlad knew only he noticed before a slightly disinterested mask covered it. She had become better at that lately. Vlad could still remember the times when she had fled the room in her misery. Now she was beginning to nurture a façade. A part of Vlad was glad for her because maybe this way it would hurt less but another part of him was unsettled.

"Enough of her," the Count continued. "Today is your day, Vladdy! Only five more years until you become a full vampire!"

That did little to brighten the breakfast up. Sometimes Vlad wondered whether his father said things like that on purpose to put him off kilter. Once upon a time Vlad had enjoyed his birthdays, but when he had decided that he would prefer a normal life, the slowly decreasing years until his sixteenth had become a source of dread. He didn't need to be reminded that today he was eleven, one year closer to becoming an evil being.

"Thanks," he mumbled and wrung his hands beneath the table. "Can I be dismissed?"

"Of course, of course. Out to do naughty things, Vlad? Feeling your vampire instincts kicking in already?"

That seemed to irritate Ingrid. "As if," she spat. "He's probably off to talk to his stuffed dog or try to sneak off to the village again. And what are you doing up anyway, Dad? You never get up before sunset! Up only to wish that my brother a happy birthday?"

By the time his father had graced his sister with an answer, Vlad was already out of earshot and climbing the stairs to his quarters. His knuckles were white as they gripped the banister on the way up and he had to struggle not to feel that despair again. He burst into his room, the highest one in the entire estate, and promptly shut the door behind him before falling with a groan on to his bed.

"It's only nine in the morning," Zoltan said from the corner of the room. "That bad already?"

Vlad groaned again and shoved his face into his pillows. He refused to face the talking stuffed Hellhound's yellow eyes.

"Master, I don't understand why you're so upset every year. You were born a vampire. Most are proud of that."

"That's what makes it so much worse! At least if I had been born human I would have had a chance at a normal life. I have no choice! When I turn sixteen…" Vlad screwed his eyes shut and clung to his sheets. "I'm not exactly a vampire yet. I can still stand in the sun and eat garlic and cross flowing water and my heart still works. I'm alive Zoltan and I'd like to stay that way."

Zoltan had already known this would be a useless conversation from the very beginning. The Hellhound still didn't know what had changed his young master's opinion so many years ago but this child, who had the chance to become something many others desired to be, had wanted nothing more than humanity. Zoltan was about to console his master further and opened his mouth to do so only to let out a slight gasp instead when something spontaneously slammed into the room's window.

Vlad jerked up from his bed at the noise and scrambled over to see what had happened. His brow furrowed when nothing seemed to be there but yelped and stumbled backwards when a great owl appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He stared at it, wondering why an owl of all creatures would be hovering outside his window during the day of all times. When it became clear that the owl would not go away, Vlad tentatively reached out and opened the window.

Immediately, the owl fluttered inside and settled upon the desk in his room. It ruffled its feathers and blinked once before straightening itself and regally presenting its left leg. Vlad stared at it in amusement and a little shock before his mind completely registered that there was a letter tied to the extended appendage. He extracted it, wondering who on earth had come up with the idea of delivery owls, and slowly read the address.

_Mr. Vladimir Dracula_

_The Northernmost Room of the Dracula Castle_

There was nothing more written on the envelope, as if it was expected that the receiver would already know whom the sender was. Who would possibly want to send him a letter this way? The accuracy of the address was unnerving. Any of his father's vampire acquaintances could travel fast enough to drop by and give him praise or insult if they so wished, but nobody truly sent letters to anybody when they could travel from one place to another in the blink of an eye unless it involved formal protocol.

"What is it, Master Vlad?" Zoltan asked, twisting his head and trying to catch a glimpse of the letter.

Vlad ran a finger over the ink and noted how the envelope was parchment – the same type of medium his own, old-fashioned father used. "I don't really know."

~0~

Minerva McGonagall took a certain small pleasure in sending out the letters to the upcoming students every year. Although it only involved a gigantic stack of paper, a continuously self-updating name index of qualified magical students, and a single flick of her wand to send them all out, she liked to see the names whizz by and note the ones that caught her interest.

She saw the expected names of various families and other acquaintances – the Malfoys, the Weasleys, the Zabinis, the Abbotts, the Notts, the Longbottoms, and others – but her eyes immediately zeroed in on the most anticipated name of the year: Harry Potter. She could only glimpse the name as it soared out the window to attach itself to a free owl but a smile touched her lips and a sense of anticipation and an actual slight tingle of fear shivered down her spine. With Harry back in the magical world, there was no doubt that the eleven-year peace would be shaken, if not broken. Dumbledore had little faith in Voldemort's complete demise and she was wise enough to realize that what he believed most likely had certain grains of truth.

She watched a few more letters fly by before she stood and dusted herself off to depart. As Minerva strode out, she took one last glance at the letters and her eyes caught another name. She froze in her stride as her brain actually computed what the name had been and a sense of disbelief flooded her.

Did that one name say _Dracula_?


	2. Cats, Conductors, and Conundrums

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that will get me sued.

**Chapter 2: Cats, Conductors, and Conundrums**

"This has got to be a joke," Ingrid ground out as she gripped the arms of her chair in the living room. "There's no way that's not a joke."

"Oh, Vladdy! That's my boy! I always knew you were so much better than your sister but I had no idea just how much better!"

Vlad grimaced at his father's exuberant exclaims and a part of him wished that he wouldn't be showered by such praises. It was vampire tradition to favor the male children but somehow he had a feeling that his father was taking it a little bit far by completely disregarding his sister like that.

Ingrid scoffed. "A boarding school? For  _magic_? For  _wizards and witches_? There's no such thing!"

"You really believe that after growing up in a  _vampire_  family?" Vlad muttered. And indeed that was the only reason why he himself hadn't tossed the letter out upon first reading its contents. He had never heard of other mythical creatures outside of werewolves but anything was possible.

"Oh, Vlad, our family hasn't had a wizard in a millennia! You special, special boy! The rest of the clans will be so  _jealous_  when they hear about this!  _Two_  members of the Dracula family invited now!"

"You're going to tell the others?" Ingrid said in disbelief. "This is obviously a hoax, Dad. Do you really think any decent school would be named Hogwarts?"

"Oh, shush, you're ruining Vlad's special day," the Count dismissed. "There are, in fact, a few rare cases among our kind who have had enough potential magical talent to be invited before. And now my Vladdy is one of them!"

A part of Vlad was dismayed to hear that there was something that made him even further from normal. It just wasn't bad enough that he was a born vampire, but now he was on par with a wizard?

Yet another part of him was a little excited. Growing up with mythical creatures as family had depleted a lot of the marvel surrounding the tales that humans thought fiction but Vlad was finally experiencing that astonishment. With the realization that non-vampiric magic, wands, and wizards were real, he was experiencing the amazement of the unknown. That, and the all-important fact that wizards were not inherently evil and thirsty for blood.

At least, not from what he had heard. And if there were a place to find the cure to his vampirism, it would be with other magical beings that weren't consumed with their evil. It seemed as if his father would be dead-set on sending him to this magical school and maybe this had been the chance he had been waiting for. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad decision to agree with his father for once.

The Count Dracula scanned the letter again, a blissful smile of pride on his face. "Well, there's no time to lose! When does school start for you then?"

"It's not until September," Vlad said. "According to the letter, they need a reply confirming that I will be attending and we need to acquire the materials needed."

Ingrid gave them both a look of complete bewilderment. "You guys are serious about this? You're going to go to some random school that dropped off a letter by owl claiming that it's a school for magic?"

"Go talk to yourself, Ingrid," their father waved away. "Vladdy and I have a letter of confirmation to write!"

Vlad's sister disappeared into her room clearly irritated beyond comprehension while his father took the liberty of elegantly penning down on ancient parchment that yes, his son would be attending. Vlad had a moment of misgiving and realized that if he truly did not want to attend, now would be the time to refuse. But again, would he ever find a better source for a cure? The chance to escape immortality stayed Vlad's tongue and he could only wince a little at the red ink his father favored; sometimes he thought it really was blood as the Count claimed it to be. In a matter of minutes, the owl was gone out the window with a new letter strapped to its leg.

Vlad watched it disappear over the horizon and wondered whether the bird actually flew that entire distance or if it utilized magic some way to travel faster. His eyes lingered on the scenery for a moment more before he moved to return back to his room. It seemed a little unreal: now he was going to attend a school for wizards.

When his father's strong grip kept him place, he jerked his head up in surprise. "Dad?"

"Oh, where are you going? There's no point in waiting! Let's get your supplies now."

Vlad blinked before glancing back out the window to make sure he was seeing things right. "Dad, the sun is still out."

"So?"

"Dad, you're a vampire. You  _can't_  go out in sunlight, remember?"

The Count scoffed. "Oh, no, Vlad. Did you think we were going to go to some plebian market out in the sunlight? Don't be ridiculous, my boy. Thousands of years of vampires roaming this planet and you really don't think we have our own, wonderfully sunlight-free plaza of stores established?"

"But…you've never been there before and you've never told us about it."

"Oh, of course I have. Plenty of times. Where do you think I buy the coffins and the blood bottles I have stored?"

It was at times like this Vlad was unsettlingly reminded that his father, although a bit oblivious most of the time, was still a part of an entirely inhuman community and more than capable of conducting his affairs without the very people living in his home knowing about it. Vlad had always assumed his father only flew out at night to hunt but clearly that was not the case.

Vlad shifted uncomfortably and sighed in resignation. "How do we get there?"

An unsettling glint entered his father's eyes as he toothily grinned. "How else do vampires travel?"

"Please tell me we're not turning into bats; I can't even turn into one yet. How –" Vlad let out a rather undignified yelp as his father abruptly gripped his forearm and he had only a moment to realize what was about to happen before they disappeared in a blur.

Flitting was undoubtedly the worst form of travel ever known to mankind…or undead kind. It was like running at 100 times light speed, or as close as you could get. It just wasn't natural for his living, breathing form. For the longest seconds of his life, it seemed as if his lungs were being crushed and his skin was taut against his skinny frame. Vlad felt as if his body was about to tear apart and fly away with the speed they were going at. The only reason why he didn't lose his father along the way was because his father was the one gripping him and not the other way around. The experience couldn't have lasted more than a mere five seconds, which, for a vampire, was actually quite a while.

Vlad collapsed against his father's strong frame and struggled to gather his limbs for a few moments when they stopped. He took in a grateful breath of air and grimaced at the motion.

"I understand that it was an uncomfortable experience, Vladdy. But we won't do it often and you're actually dealing with it rather well. I've heard horror stories from several of the others when they had to deal with their children at this age. Ugh! Thank goodness you have the Dracula strength. It wouldn't be pleasant if you released your stomach's contents now would it?"

It felt as if Vlad just might do exactly that for the briefest of seconds but then it did settle down and he was more or less back to normal. Once he could look around, he straightened and ran his eyes over the new location. It was dark, a series of caves and entwining passageways that provided the perfect cover from the sunlight. Floating candles magically lit displayed the paths to follow and the many shops that Vlad could just barely decipher hidden in the cavern walls. It seemed like the perfect bat liar with a great crowd of vampires shuffling about to complete the picture.

"Isn't it marvelous?" the Count crowed. "We normally don't bother showing our younger ones the Chamber Plaza until after their full transformation but you are obviously an exception, my boy. Here, vampires can gather and take part in some good haggling and the occasional duel in the streets."

In Vlad's point of view, this was just another reason why he needed to get his things and leave as quickly as possible. The entire place screamed the complete opposite of normality and the darkness just seemed to make the entire atmosphere seem depressing and rather chilly. It made him uncomfortable to be wearing bright orange and blue in a place like this; he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"So, where to first?" Vlad hastily asked. He could see the beginning of another boasting lecture about the greatness of vampires.

The Count was immediately focused. "Ah, yes." He reached into his cloak and extracted the school letter to read. "It says here we need to get you a cauldron – for Potions! Marvelous! I know just the place!" And the man was off in a hurry, leaving Vlad to quickly scrabble after his excited father.

_Aramastus' Loathsome Supplies_  was hardly the place Vlad was hoping to see but what else could have expected from a virtual vampire shopping complex? He tried not to show his distaste when his father dragged him inside.

The interior was no less dreary than the exterior had been. There was only a single, lit candle to see by and there was an immediate smell of dust and decay. Spider webs covered any surface available and there was literally not a single spot where there wasn't dust or some sort of grime. Vlad sighed and was painfully reminded of what his own home looked like.

"Aramastus!" his father bellowed. "I see you've decorated the place! Is that an extra tarantula I see there?"

To Vlad's surprise, a man not much older than twenty-five came out from behind the store's counter. His face was the typical pale of a vampire and his eyes as black as his face was white but he seemed neat and poised. "It is good to see you again, Count Dracula. And indeed. I appreciate that my efforts have not gone to waste. Her name is Arianna."

Vlad's father hummed. "A very pleasant name. I had one like her once. Pity my brute of a servant killed her."

"I am sorry for your loss. But please, let us not dwell on sad tidings. What brings you here today?"

A proud look encompassed the Count's face and Vlad barely had time to steel himself for the second time that day as his father pulled him forward proclaiming, "My son has been invited to study with the wizards. We will be needing the supplies written here." He held out the letter.

Aramastus looked nothing short of astonished as he grasped the parchment. "Another? Isn't this the second in your family line?"

"My Vladimir has always been special. How could he not be, being my son and heir?"

"I am impressed, sir. Very impressed. He must have great magical potential to be invited by the wizards."

Vlad's father seemed to preen under the praise as if he were the one being complimented. Vlad, meanwhile, tried not to shrink in on himself with embarrassment.

"I will be able to provide the cauldron, the sets of crystal phials, the brass scales, and the telescope. Unfortunately, I do not sell books or suitable attire here but for what I can, I shall provide the very best."

"I can ask for nothing more," the Count imperiously replied. "We will return for them."

Aramastus bowed once before returning the letter and showing them out the store. Vlad was slightly surprised at the blatant respect they had received the entire time and uncomfortably realized that maybe his father wasn't joking when he said he was the Prince of Darkness. His father had always ranted about how their family was one of the oldest and purest but Vlad had never truly listened well enough to understand how respected they were.

"Clothes next, Vladdy. I'll drop you off and then pick up your books for you while they take your measurements and make you a new wardrobe."

Vlad spluttered, "An entirely new  _wardrobe_? Dad, I only need school attire."

"I will not have my son going to school with nothing less than the best. We can't have those breathing wizards look better, now can we? They might have magic and I give them that much but, really, they need a  _stick_  to channel their magic and they still  _breathe_."

"Dad, I still breathe."

"But that will change in five years," his father cheerfully replied. "And then you'll be a proper vampire."

The reminder set Vlad back into a morose mood. If he couldn't find a cure in five years…

_Drusilla's and Tessa's_ seemed harmless enough. It was completely black with the typical crimson trimmings but at least the interior was clean and there were no spiders or skulls staring Vlad down. The vampiresses seemed nice enough as well when they emerged from the back; they were twin sisters who immediately took to doting upon the "little vampire". The minute they heard the name Dracula, they took Vlad back and set off on their job with an efficiency that Vlad had only ever seen in his mother's eye when she was out to manipulate his father again.

His father spoke with the vampiresses for a few moments, explaining what he needed and desired for his son. But he spent considerably less time conversing with them as he had with Aramastus – something Vlad had a sneaking suspicion had to do with the fact that the sisters were female.

"Isn't this exciting?" Drusilla cooed. "You're going to make your father so proud."

"A wizard school!" Tessa exclaimed as she measured his waist. "They're so secretive with all of their magical hoshposh. It's rather presumptive of them to only invite the most powerful of us and rather counterproductive too. If they wanted to protect their secrets so much why give it to the ones that can use it best against them?"

"Don't be daft, they only teach it to the most powerful of us that way the rest won't be able to do the same," Drusilla sighed. "Oh, Vladimir, dear, you really should eat more. You seem so small for your age."

The good part of the next four hours – and he wasn't joking when he said four hours – continued as such. The two sisters prattled on as if he weren't there and shooed away the occasional shopper. That was perfectly fine with Vlad, actually. He would have had no idea how to reply to some of the fashion related questions they fired at each other and even less about the latest vampire gossip. Those were the two things he fought hardest to avoid in his life. The only downfall to the entire experience was the fact that his arms ached after so long, he quickly grew bored with nothing to do but stand as a model, and suffered the piercing several times by needles gone astray which oftentimes resulted in the two sisters glancing surreptitiously at the blood that escaped.

As the sisters were finishing up the last touches of their measurements and fabric decisions, Vlad's father came bursting into the store with gigantic bags of purchased goods in his arms. "Vladdy! Look what I've got for you!"

Vlad was just glad to see his ticket to escape. "Dad, did it really take you that long to find the books?"

"I stopped back at Aramastus' and no, I did not just purchase the books listed," scoffed the Count. He stuck his hand into one of the bags and extracted one book that definitely did not seem school approved.

" _The Keys to Hypnotism?"_  Vlad read incredulously. "Dad, I'm not going to vampire school. I'm going to a school for magic."

"And what, exactly, is the difference?" his father asked. "We have magic too, Vladdy. Most just don't take the time to refine it or have the strength like us Draculas have to control it. Now that you're going to study with the wizards, I figured why not start early on your vampiric magical studies!"

Vlad groaned as they exited the store with the sisters promising to have the entire wardrobe finished in a matter of days. He glanced over at his father carrying all of the bags and couldn't help but grin a little at the ridiculous picture he painted. A regal vampire, dressed in dark robes, hauling shopping bags like he was on a spree.

As they passed through the passageways, Vlad became aware of the many eyes trailing him and his father. Most here did not wear the expensive robes his father owned and Vlad had a feeling his glaringly bright attire did little to make them any less conspicuous. It was unsettling to feel so many gazes upon him and the occasional whisper of "Dracula" caught his ears.

Not all of the gazes were just curious. Some of the younger vampires lingered upon Vlad specifically and he wondered why before he finally noticed how they were looking at his  _neck._  Born vampire or not, he still had blood pumping within his veins and a pulse to entice those hungry.

His father strode along confidently as if nothing was the matter. Vlad wasn't surprised; his father reveled in the attention, lived off of it. The Count did, however, stick close to his son and many of the thirsty vampires around them did not miss the strong hand resting upon Vlad's shoulder. They knew better than to act upon their desires; everybody knew that one touch to the still-breathing children of vampires resulted in a gruesome protective reaction from the parents.

"Is our last stop for my wand?" Vlad finally asked to break the silent tension that had accumulated.

The Count gave him a scandalized look. "A wand? Good garlic, Vladdy, no! Vampires do not need a  _wand_!"

"Then how am I supposed to use my magic?"

"All in good time, my boy, all in good time."

Their final stop ended at  _Dante's Miscellaneous Trinkets – Since As Long As Anybody Can Remember_. This particular store seemed like your average run-down shack that in no way depicted the normal vampire taste for the extravagant and baroque. In a way, it soothed Vlad a bit to see how it differed but nothing could truly come from such a store; it seemed like a place for shady dealings.

The moment they stepped inside, one of the oldest vampires Vlad had ever met was fiddling with something that looked to be long rod of wood. The man's hair was a piercing white and his eyes bugged out through the looking lenses that he utilized to stare at the rod. He didn't appear as if he noticed the two of them walk in, but, for once, his father did not cough or act for the older vampire's attention.

They patiently waited until the old man glanced up and twitched violently, dropping the rod. "In the name of blood and garlic!" he cursed. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Dracula!"

The Count raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're aware that we've been standing here for a good five minutes."

The man squinted. "Really? You're not pulling my fang are you?"

Vlad stifled a chuckle at the man's obliviousness and quickly found himself being skewered by the old gaze.

"Ah…is this your young one?"

"Indeed," his father said with no small amount of pride.

"Don't tell me," Dante said with a hand up. "Another wizard-worthy?"

If his father's ego could have inflated any more than it already had, Vlad was sure it would have exploded by now. "He will be beginning this September."

Dante wheezed out a laugh. "It's a little early still – it's still July is it not? – but I can understand your eagerness. I presume you have come for my father's things?"

Vlad frowned. "Your father's things?"

"Indeed, boy. My father too was once invited as you were."

Vlad's eyebrows shot up in surprise but then he quickly said, "Oh, wait. I wouldn't want to take anything that once belonged to your father. That wouldn't be fair to you."

Dante laughed once again. "Oh dear, Count. Seems you've got a  _polite_ one here! I haven't seen a polite Dracula in centuries. You've got quite a bit of work to fix that up."

"There's nothing wrong with being polite," Vlad muttered to himself.

The older vampire obviously heard the comment. "No, it is not at times and perhaps your father could learn a thing or two from you."

Before the Count could retort, Dante disappeared into the back storage room. It was only a few moments before the man came back out with an engraved box in his hands. "Here they are." When Vlad only stared in confusion, the man motioned for him to come closer. "Come on, it's not going to bite."

Vlad tentatively walked to the counter and looked at the box. It seemed old but definitely not nearly as old as some of the relics stored in his family's castle. It seemed perfectly dusted and symbols Vlad didn't recognize covered every inch of it. He peered up at Dante once for approval before slowly reaching up and grasping the lid.

When he had removed the top, he peered inside and nestled among purple velvet lay a single silver bangle with a blood-red gem impressed into the metal.

"It's a conductor, boy," Dante said. "Vampires cannot use wands. We do not channel our magic as wizards do. Wizards too can do what they call 'wandless' magic but for vampires, all of our magic is wandless. Our own blood, especially of those born a vampire, acts as our conductors and we are more in tune with the ambient magic around us. Seeing as you're not exactly a full vampire yet just as my father was when he was invited, conductors such as this one allow a premature vampire to access their magic – only if there is enough magic in the blood for the conductor to detect. That is why only vampires noticed by the wizards are capable of using them." The old man shrugged. "Or so my father once told me."

Vlad fingered the silver bangle with a hint of apprehension. He felt something already tugging at him to take it, put it on. But he controlled himself and looked up. "Are there a lot of them?"

"Hardly," Dante replied. "Not very many vampires have ever had need of conductors. Almost all wait until their transformation because what are a few years wait compared to an eternity with magic? Only those invited to study with wizards ever make use of it. I do not know exactly how many exist but I doubt there would be more than the number of fingers on my left hand."

Vlad couldn't help but notice how two fingers seemed to missing from the vampire's left hand.

"Thank you for your assistance," his father suddenly said. Vlad jumped a little; he had forgotten his father was there. "But we must be going now. I worry about what my servant, Renfield, is getting up to back at home. Come, Vladimir."

Vlad hastily closed the lid back on the box and hauled it under his arm as his father quickly handed over a bag that held who-knew-how-many coins inside. Dante bowed once and then the two of them were back out in the caverns.

Vlad was a little surprised that his father did not immediately offer his arm to depart. He peered up curiously and saw the Count smiling down at him. "What is it, Dad?"

"You were right. It didn't take me that long to pick books out earlier."

Now he was confused. "So what were you doing?"

Almost out of nowhere, his father pulled out one of the many bags he was carrying and promptly extracted a cage. It was indeed one of the pets that the letter had mentioned was allowed but what surprised Vlad the most was that it was not a gigantic spider or a bat. Inside, there was only a single black kitten blinking up blearily in the light. The only strange thing about it was the strange dichotomy in eye color, one electric blue and the other striking emerald.

Vlad smiled at the gift and said, "Wow, Dad…this is…"

"Wonderful?" his father prompted smugly.

"It is," the younger vampire smiled. He was more surprised and flattered that it was not some strange creature with ten limbs. It meant that perhaps his father really was listening when his son declared he wanted some normalcy. "Thank you."

The Count seemed to pick up on his son's sincerity and he returned the smile before awkwardly shuffling the kitten and its cage back in its bag before finally extending his arm, pointedly looking away as if embarrassed.

"Got a good grip on everything, Vladdy?" his father asked.

Vlad laughed a little and quickly shoved the box holding his magic conductors into one of the bags his father was holding before they disappeared.

~0~

"Did you have a good trip today, Master Vlad?" Zoltan asked as Vlad hauled the last of his new things up into his room.

Vlad huffed out, dropping the last bag heavily on the floor. His father had immediately left the task up to him to take care of the new purchases before claiming that it was evening and that he would like to feast upon a few Breathers before heading to bed. His new pet had been promptly placed in its own secluded area for the time being with an actual bowl of decent milk that Vlad had somehow managed to find in Renfield's storage of goods.

"It was decent, I guess. The Chamber Plaza seemed perfect for…vampires."

"It must have been exciting," Zoltan smiled, misunderstanding as he usually did.

Vlad sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Just looking at some of the ingredients that came with his Potions kit reminded of the lab Renfield ran down in his own quarters and that did little enforce his idea that wizards just might be a tad more normal than vampires. At least they still walked out in sunlight and did not drink blood.

His eyes scanned his room to settle for the hundredth time before they settled on the box…again. The entire time he had been unpacking, he couldn't quite get the conductor out of his head. Vlad bit his lip and walked over to pick it up. The wood felt grainy and it was only slightly heavy, hardly something that he would think to carry a rare magical object. Vlad carried it to his bed and leaned back into his pillows. His eyes roamed the engravings and he traced the patterns, memorizing as he went.

"Master Vlad?" Zoltan inquired, looking at the box. "Is that…?"

Vlad grinned. "I guess you could call it my wand. At least, until I hit sixteen." But what if he came across a cure? Would he still be able to use magic if he kept this bangle? That didn't sound so bad: a mortal life with the perks of magic.

He took off the lid and again stared at the silver. His fingers delicately picked up the cold object and shuddered as it seemed to warm under his touch. Looking closely, he could see tiny ridges along the entire band and similar runes that were on the box. The gem itself seemed hypnotizing, pulling him into its depths. Almost without thinking, he raised the bangle and neatly slid it into place on his left forearm.

"Master Vlad, what are you –"

There was a blinding flash of crimson light as the gem flared once and the hellhound yelped before closing his eyes. Vlad too instinctively covered his eyes with his right arm but he could feel the band's power, its magic pulling and tugging at Vlad's own. What had been dormant now held open rein to rage through his body and he gasped at the magnitude of it. Did all vampires feel this when they Turned? Did they all feel as if they were being overwhelmed and  _stifled_  by the pure strength of it all? For a moment Vlad felt as if he was losing himself, as if his blood was taking over and he would be forever lost. But then the bangle flared once more and the onslaught was brutally cut off, just the right amount left simmering under his skin and ready for use.

Vlad was panting heavily, his face slick with sweat and his limbs sprawled on his bed. He felt both drained and empowered at the same time. There was a small amount of relief to feel that his heart still beat and he was mortal as ever; a part of him had feared that this might have taken it too far and Turned him too early.

"My goodness!" exclaimed Zoltan. "I swear that was almost as blinding as the sausage!"

Vlad blinked and giggled. "Sausage?"

"You know your father forbade me from saying the 's' word. He hates the light it emits."

Vlad giggled again and drunkenly repeated, "Sausage."

The hellhound frowned and furrowed his furry brow as he looked closer at his young charge. "Are you…alright, Master Vlad?"

"It's funny how you say sausage, Zoltan," the young vampire grinned a little too widely. "I bet if we went down to the village now, they'd all laugh too.

An irritated thumping of boots signified Ingrid's incoming presence. She whipped her head through the door and snapped out, "Hey, wimp. Dad wants to know what the stupid flash of light up here was."

Vlad giggled again and waved his hands in some indecipherable attempt at portraying his words. "It's sort of ticklish."

Ingrid froze in her snappish reply and raised one eyebrow. "What's wrong with you?"

Zoltan sighed and shook his head. "It seems as if putting on the conductor has made young Master Vlad…"

"High?"

The hellhound pondered a moment before nodding. "It does seem so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha...well this one is definitely longer than the last :) It just kind of made sense to put the whole trip in one chapter. I'm just having too much fun with this.
> 
> And haha...the sausage. I always did find Zoltan's substitutes for words like "sun" and "garlic" hilarious. Please correct me if the word I used is incorrect. I am not quite sure if "sausage" was meant to replace "sun". I'm sort of disappointed how he just...DISAPPEARED halfway through season 4. Like, what happened?
> 
> Till next time!


	3. Harry Potter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that will get me sued.

**Chapter 3: Harry Potter**

Vlad struggled not to roll his eyes as his father repeated the same directions for the umpteenth time.

"Now, Vladdy, just look into the eyes and allow them to  _sink_  into your consciousness…"

"Dad," Vlad interrupted. "I'm supposed to be at the platform in ten minutes. I'm not so sure how another few seconds of hypnotism lessons are going to help."

"He's right, Dad," Ingrid smirked as she crossed her arms. "Maybe there's been a mistake. He's obviously useless at this. You should teach  _me_."

Something about his sister had become all the more bitter over the last month before his departure to Hogwarts. In some ways, a small part of Vlad understood why. He had spent a good three days in a stupor of heightened magic power and during that time, he had done a number of fantastic magical feats: lighting up the candles, conjuring balls of flame to float, summoning objects to him, and even once completely fixing a cup he had broken during his high. Even after he had calmed down and using magic had suddenly become much harder, Ingrid seemed to seethe with anger and jealously. This was what she wanted; she had wanted it far longer and far fiercer than Vlad ever had. She was born a vampire and dreamed of being one with all of the power that came with it. Even Vlad could see how unfair it was that the younger child, the peacemaker, the "goody-goody", the  _male_  got all of the attention and magic. Vampires were supposed to be vicious, selfish, deceitful, and troublemaking. Ingrid was all of these and more but never once did she receive the respect she believed she deserved.

"Oh, shut up, Ingrid. Can't you see I'm trying to teach my son and heir?"

She let out a frustrated shriek and exited the room shouting, "Fine! See if I care! You can take Vlad to the station alone!"

The Count rolled his eyes at his daughter's outburst and turned back to his son as if nothing of importance had happened. "Now that she's out of the way, I suppose we ought to get going, hm? You're right. Perhaps you can practice on your own at school. And remember, I actually expect you to get… _good_  grades." He shuddered. "Bats, it feels strange to say that. Normally I would ask you to do your absolute worst and make me proud but when it comes to magic, I'm afraid I'm going to have to encourage you to well."

Vlad's grin was a little strained and he tried to push the thought of leaving on such bad terms with his sister for a year. It bothered him, of course, to see her so distressed but it wasn't like he could just walk up there now and help her. She would most likely just blow up upon seeing him again. In many ways, Vlad knew he had suddenly become the very image of everything she hated.

"Now, do you have everything?"

Vlad rummaged through his things. His new kitten, still yet to be named, had been sent ahead already. It was a sort of relief for him because he feared he would lose it in the hustle and bustle.

He was still wearing his normal, bright human attire today despite his father's pleads and his robes were neatly packed in his trunk for later changing into. His materials were in his trunk and a bag mixed with silver, copper, and gold coins was tied securely to his belt. He glanced once again at the bangle that would adorn his left bicep for the next seven years and gently brushed it with his fingers before looking up at his father and nodding. "It's all here, Dad."

The Count clapped his hands excitedly and grasped the trunk in one hand and his son's arm in the other. Vlad grit his teeth for the split second they were still grounded and the next they were flitting.

It wasn't as bad the third time around. He still felt as if he was about to split a thousand different directions but at least he was now expecting it. When they came to a stop in the middle of a busy platform, he managed to stay securely on his feet and was only dizzy for a few seconds.

"Ugh," his father spat. "It still smells of Breather here, Vladdy. There's magic, of course, but still… _Breather_."

Vlad looked in awe at the gigantic red train proudly awaiting its arrivals. The entire place seemed completely filled with students ranging from all ages eleven to seventeen and parents or siblings that had come along to say goodbye for the year. Many of the older people here wore robes and particularly pointed hats. The attire was no stranger than his father's own archaic style and – in some cases – were even stranger. Finally, he did not stick out with his father by his side. Several of the parents even seemed just as pompous and self-assured of their regality as his father was, which just made the Count seem all the more normal.

Vlad genuinely smiled at the thought.  _Normal._  That was a word he never thought he would ever use with his father in the same sentence.

They were still a good five minutes early but Vlad could already see the individual compartments filling up on the train. He quickly turned back to his father, an eager grin finally filling his face as he threw his arms around the Count. For a moment, the elder vampire seemed flustered but then he slowly returned the gesture. It was awkward to say the least but a part of Vlad was completely and blissfully happy in the moment. Normality was something so rare for him and to finally taste it was beautiful.

His father was the first to pull away while saying, "Well, then…I hope you do the Dracula name proud, Vladdy. And as much as you should do well in your classes, don't forget to get yourself in  _some_  sort of trouble. I expect great things from you!"

Vlad smiled in return and grasped his trunk. "Thanks, Dad. See you next year!"

As soon as he had said his part, Vlad was scrambling towards the nearest entrance on to the train. He hauled his heavy trunk up the small steps and managed not to drop it or trip along the way. As he passed through the small passageway, his eyes roamed the windows, searching for some empty spaces or groups that seemed open for one more. The further he traveled back, the more his hopes were beginning to dampen but he continued because, at last, this seemed like something a normal child did.

Right when Vlad was nearing the last of the compartments, he finally saw one that was not filled to the brim. He gratefully reached forward and tugged open the door.

"Hello," he said, suddenly shy. He had only learned English recently and he knew that he still must have a Romanian lilt to his speech. "The other compartments were busy, you see, and I was wondering if I could…?"

"Oh, of course," smiled the other boy just as shyly. His mop of completely unruly black hair was the complete opposite of Vlad's own naturally obedient locks and his eyes glittered an almost unnaturally bright green. Vlad might have almost called them pretty had there not been a pair of ancient glasses obscuring them.

"Thanks," Vlad said in relief. "I was beginning to worry that I would have to sit outside."

The other boy laughed and held out a hand as Vlad settled into the seat across. "I'm Harry Potter."

 _Potter…a Noble name._  Good garlic, he was starting to sound like his father. "Nice to meet you, I'm Vlad Dracula."

A queer expression crossed Harry's face at the introduction and a small quirk touched his lips. "Dracula? Like the novel?"

Vlad blinked and then his eyebrows creased in a question of his own. "You don't think he exists?"

"Am I supposed to?"

Could it really be? Could it be that not all wizards knew that Dracula was a real person, a real name? Could it be that wizards didn't know that vampires existed at all? He would have thought magical beings knew of other magical beings but apparently not.

"The name Dracula…" Vlad began.

"I read the book," Harry grinned. "But I'm new to the Wizarding World; I grew up with my Muggle aunt and uncle. Are there actually vampires here?"

It was a good thing Vlad had read the introductory books before coming otherwise he would not have known what a Muggle was. What he  _hadn't_  read was whether vampires were well known here or not. Perhaps if he could hide it…

The compartment door abruptly burst open before Vlad could reply and the doorway was suddenly blocked by the reddest blob of hair and a face more filled with freckles than any other he had ever seen.

"Hi, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley. Do you guys have some room? I don't want to get stuck with my twin brothers; they're a right pain in the neck when they want to do some of their magical tricks."

Perhaps it was the way Vlad had grown up or perhaps it was just a part of the nature he had picked up from his genes, but something about Ron came across as a bit distasteful. Vlad winced at how snobbish the thought sounded but he couldn't help but think it again as he ran his eyes over the disheveled clothes and hurried air. Harry at least had an excuse. Ron sounded like he knew plenty about magic already if his brothers were already using it. His entire life, Vlad had been taught how to speak, stand, eat, and behave properly should the occasion arise. He blatantly ignored the majority of the statutes he learned, even taking the liberties to appear just as sloppy as the redhead did, but years and years of it had embedded some of those values into him.

Harry nodded once before the redhead sprawled himself on to the seat beside Vlad and smiled. "Hey, um…Sorry for intruding like this but you know how it goes…"

It didn't seem like Ron was a bad person, quite the opposite actually. He genuinely seemed to mean well but it was just the manner he carried himself that set Vlad on edge. "No, no," he hastily said in an effort to shove away his thoughts. "It's no problem."

Rob smiled gratefully before asking, "I suppose I've already introduced myself. Who are you?"

"I'm Vlad." He refrained from saying his last name. "And this is Harry."

The newcomer cocked his head at the word 'Harry' and he scrutinized the spectacled boy in the opposite seat before gasping, "You're Harry Potter!"

If the human face could mimic a tomato, Vlad had a feeling Harry's would have done exactly that. "Yea, I am."

"Can I see the – the –"

Harry tersely smiled and pulled back his bangs to reveal a thin, lightning-bolt shaped scar.

Ron guffawed and burst into praise and exclamations about how  _amazing_ this was and how Harry had  _taken down a Dark Lord._  Vlad furrowed his eyebrows at the statements for a few moments in confusion before something in his memory finally clicked. This was  _the_  Harry Potter, the first and only person to have ever survived the Killing Curse and the vanquisher of the Lord Voldemort. When Vlad had first read that in the  _Modern History of Wizardry_ , he had been dismayed to discover that there was, in fact, a dark side to the wizarding world. That, more than anything else, had disappointed him because he had been hoping to avoid anything even remotely close to such a thing; it reminded him too much of his vampire heritage. He had been upset enough to just skim over Harry's name and it hadn't really occurred to him that he might be attending the same school in the same year as the famous boy.

As Ron and Harry carried on to converse about Quidditch, the train began to move, shifting away from the platform and out into the countryside. As they passed through the station, Vlad glanced out his window and noticed with a slight smile that his father was still there, waving at every single window in hopes of saying one last goodbye to his "Vladdy". It was only when his father disappeared from view did he turn his mind back to the conversation at hand.

"I hope I get into Gryffindor," Ron was saying. "Best House there is, you know. My whole family's been in it. I wouldn't mind Ravenclaw though and maybe Hufflepuff at worst but I would rather kill myself than end up in Slytherin." The redhead shuddered.

Vlad frowned. From what he had read, Gryffindor was the House of the Brave and Honorable, Ravenclaw the House of the Curious and Intelligent, Hufflepuff the House of the Hardworking and Loyal, and Slytherin the House of the Cunning and Resourceful. None of them seemed particularly good or bad but that had been a textbook definition. What set Ron off from Slytherin so much? He certainly hoped it wasn't just prejudiced bigotry. He had enough of that from his family.

Vlad didn't have a chance to ask why Ron abhorred Slytherin before the door opened once again.

"I heard Harry Potter was on the train," said a boy with frighteningly white blonde hair. "Is it true?"

Two larger goons seemed to materialize behind the boy as Harry exclaimed, "You were the boy at Madame Malkins!"

The blonde shrugged. "Perhaps. But is it true? Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry hesitated at the brusque question but then he nodded wordlessly. A wary look now covered the celebrity's face.

"You're Draco Malfoy!" Ron interrupted, completely oblivious to the tension that had suddenly oppressed the cabin. "I've heard of  _you_."

Draco directed his gaze to the redhead and a sneer of disdain marred his lips. "Let me guess: red hair, hand-me-down clothes…you must be a  _Weasley_." He turned to Harry. "I see you're getting yourself tangled up with the wrong kind. I could help you there, if you know what I mean." He extended his hand in a pompous gesture and stood waiting.

Vlad had seen this kind before. In fact, this was the  _only_  kind of person he had only ever known in his life. Arrogant and high-nosed to a fault. But as much as Vlad abhorred such attitudes, he had learned that there was often reason behind such attitudes. One did not just simply portray such a superior picture if there wasn't something – no matter how small – that indicated such a thing could be true. Only a completely insane or stupid person would carry themselves in such a manner and not some guarantee that they had something to back up their claims.

It didn't come as a surprise when the defeater of the Dark Lord scowled and snapped, "I think I can tell the right sort for myself."

The Malfoy cheeks reddened at the complete rebuff and an angry frown now tilted his lips downwards. "Fine, then. I see what kind of lot you've thrown yourself into and don't say that I didn't warn you when you had the chance to escape them." He ran a condescending glance down at Ron and then, for the first time, ran his gaze over Vlad. There was a brief flash of surprise and at what he saw but then the same downgrading look clouded it. "Let me guess, that's another product of Mudblood filth."

Vlad bristled at the insult and retorted, "I don't think you're in the position to say anything. You do not know me."

"What does it matter?" the blonde sneered. It was just as disdainful as it had been when he had been speaking to the redhead, but Vlad could detect a slight easing of the ferocity of it. Something told him that Draco had enjoyed taunting Ron, but was forcing this confrontation, as if he was only insulting Vlad out of obligation. "You choose to associate with trash; you  _are_ trash."

Vlad had spent enough time around bullies like this. He couldn't even remember how many times he had come across other pompous vampire children during his younger years when his father was still trying to get him to associate with the "better kind." (His father had ceased those efforts after Vlad had tried to make friends with a Breather down in the village when he had been six.) The only way to stop Draco's impression that he could push Vlad around was to retaliate harshly the first time.

"Well, better that than being a result of  _inbreeding_. Aren't your parents cousins? At least I'm not destined to be a defective like you will be." He could see the amazed gapes from his peripheral vision as Harry and Ron stared at the audacity of his words. Or maybe they had not known the truth and were just shocked to hear the news. At their expressions, it struck Vlad that perhaps he should not have said something quite so vindictive. He had seen more than his fair share of incest among the vampires and the insult was hardly one to blink at for him but he had heard somewhere that relations among the related were more abhorred among humans.

A strange look lit Draco's eyes and he swiftly turned with a flush tingeing the base of his neck. "Come Goyle, Crabbe. We shouldn't associate with the filth any more than we need to."

The way the previously stubborn and unmoving snob had given up, Vlad had a horrible feeling in his chest that perhaps he had said something too inconsiderate. He wanted to stand up and tell the blond that he was sorry and that he hadn't meant for it to be quite so mean but the trio were gone and out the cabin before Vlad could act upon his impulse. Ron and Harry sat in silence upon their departure and the young vampire bit his lips. This wasn't what he had been aiming for at all. Even when trying to be good, Vlad had absorbed some of his family's natural cruelty.

Ron awkwardly coughed into his sleeve and Harry tersely glanced out the window. Vlad watched them for a while, silently begging them to talk again or do anything to indicate that this wasn't something unforgivable. It was to his great relief when Ron finally and tentatively asked, "Was that true?"

Vlad had the answer upon his lips and was about to say that it was true but he stilled his tongue. If it was something to be ashamed of, he certainly didn't want to further humiliate Draco even if the boy wasn't there. He had seen how Ron disliked the blond and realized that if he did tell the truth, the redhead might "accidentally" let the information slip in anger in the future.

"No, it wasn't," Vlad replied morosely. "I just had to say something back, you know?" The lie tasted sour in his mouth despite the good purpose it was being used for. No, this was not how he wanted to begin his school year. How was it possible that just a few minutes ago he had been exuberant and normalcy had been within his reach?

Harry frowned at the out at the scenery. "It wasn't very nice of you to say that, then."

Vlad felt a flush of shame color his cheeks and he muttered back, "I'm sorry."

Harry absorbed the apology and then he turned to look at the vampire in the eye and gave a small smile. "It's okay. That Draco was a right prat anyway, saying we were all trash."

Ron shifted in place and fumbled with his jacket for a moment. "Even if it wasn't true, it really got Malfoy out the door."

Vlad shrugged and licked his lips. The once calm and carefree atmosphere had abruptly taken a chillier turn. Neither of the other two seemed all that willing to speak to him after what he had said. The very idea that he had begun on such bad footing set Vlad's nerves on edge and he wanted nothing more than to rub himself hard as if to scrub away his mistake. That had been so stupid of him. How could he allow himself to slip like that already?

The discomfort in the air suddenly seemed too oppressive. Vlad hastily muttered some excuse and exited the cabin. In his hurry, he accidentally shut the door too harshly behind him and he winced as several other students idling in the passing way glanced over. His lips thinned at his clumsiness and he determinedly stared at the floor as he shot a beeline away from the area.

Vlad had no idea where he was going. The only thing he knew was that he just needed some time to collect himself. Associating with other people was a lot harder than he had thought. Just one wrong statement and everything as suddenly wrong. He let out a heavy sigh and paused at a section of the cart where fewer occupied the space. Vlad pressed his forehead against the glass window and unseeingly looked at the passing greenery. It seemed as if they were passing through some countryside and a lake glittered just a little ways off to the left, but nature's beauty held little hold over the young vampire. He had more pressing concerns like the impending death of his dream of a normal school year.

Vlad yelped and jumped on the spot when something small and slimy abruptly tickled his neck. Whatever brooding thoughts occupying his mind disappeared as he glanced down and realized that a  _toad_  was placidly settling itself into the crook of his neck.

"Trevor!" exclaimed a voice down the hall and Vlad looked up to see a stocky boy come dashing up to him. "You found Trevor!"

Vlad grinned slightly. "Well, I guess he found me."

"I've been looking for him for ages!" the other boy smiled. "Who knows what my Gran would have said if she found out that I lost my familiar the first few hours on the train?"

"It's a good thing you found him then."

The boy awkwardly bobbed his head in agreement before tentatively saying, "My name is Neville, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Vladimir but I prefer Vlad."

A head full of bushy, brown hair suddenly popped its way into the middle of their introductions and a girl's voice proclaimed, "Well my name is Hermione Granger and it's a great thing you found Neville's toad. It was beginning to look a little hopeless there."

Vlad looked in bewilderment at the rapid-fire interruption and he managed to smile weakly before replying, "Um…well, like I said: I didn't really do anything. Trevor came to me."

"That's fantastic," Hermione said distractedly. "Now that you've found your pet, Neville, let's get back to the cabin. I bet we missed the food trolley already and I really want to practice a few more spells just in case the professors decide to give us all a pop quiz when we arrive."

The two were gone in a matter of seconds, Neville casting one last apologizing glance over his shoulder as the overbearing girl dragged him away.

Vlad blinked once at the oddity of that meeting before a burble of laughter slipped past his lips. Who would have ever thought that his trip to school would end up like this? A toad was certainly a peculiar animal to select as a lifelong companion. And by the looks of the poor thing, it seemed as if the amphibian hadn't been that keen on spending time with Neville anyway.

The next hour or so, Vlad just stayed in place, partially hoping that some strange occurrence would happen again. But the time dragged by and eventually he mustered up the courage to return to the cabin with Harry and Ron. He had to steel himself as he stood in front of the sliding door and it took him a whole five minutes just to grasp the handle. Rejection and repulsion were not exactly things he was looking forward to but if it came to that, he would deal with it and leave. Honestly, Vlad had no choice but to return considering he had left his trunk inside.

The moment he opened the door, whatever conversation the two had been holding stopped. It appeared as if Harry and Ron had been gorging themselves on a large pile of sweets and by the manner with which they were sitting, it was obvious that they had furthered their friendship. A smile was just dying on both of their faces.

Ron was the first to recover. "Oh, you're back! It's a good thing because I was beginning to think I would have to go after you."

Doubtful, but Vlad took the statement for what it was. He wasn't stupid enough to dwell too long on it. He forced a smile and replied, "I sort of got caught up with a few people."

"Tell me about it," the redhead griped. "This bushy girl – Herninny I think she was called? – came in asking about a toad a while back. Then she just had to go and show off and then left. Girls are a right pain, if you ask me." Ron lifted a finger to his nose and asked, "There's nothing on my face right?"

The way Ron's thoughts fluttered from one topic to another left Vlad's head spinning but he dutifully said, "I think there's a little dirt along your nose."

A frown predominated the redhead's expression at the comment but Harry took the time to say, "Really, we're glad you made it back."

Again, doubtful. But if they weren't kicking him out then Vlad was hardly one to complain. He settled a little uncomfortably in the seat opposite the other two and quietly watched. Harry offered a couple of sweets but Vlad declined each time; his father had stuffed him with food in the morning already. As the other two became more accustomed to Vlad's presence in the room, the two fell into light banter about their candies and the possibilities of the upcoming year still sprinkled with the occasional mention of Quidditch. The young vampire managed a comment in here and there but ultimately, the rest of the trip was a very awkward one for Vlad.

It was almost with relief that Vlad heard the announcement to change into their robes and prepare to arrive at Hogsmeade.

~0~

The subsequent trip up to the massive castle had continued to be less than pleasant for Vlad. He had trailed Harry and Ron the majority of the time on to the boat and up the stairs to wait outside the Main Hall and silently stood to the side as Ron engaged Draco in yet another confrontation. The squabble was quickly extinguished as their Transfigurations professor and Gryffindor Head of House appeared and it was only then that Vlad allowed himself to gape at the enchanted hall. It had been breathtaking, something that finally showed him that coming here hadn't been a mistake. He had lost Harry and Ron in the crowd on their way in but he did not worry too much about it. There was almost a sense of reprieve when he was finally alone again. The two weren't bad people. Harry seemed welcoming if a little shy and withdrawn. Ron was boisterous and pulled Harry out of his shell but there was something to be said about his need to learn control. There was nothing wrong with them; Vlad just didn't mingle well with the two. The three of them didn't quite click.

So Vlad was standing alone amidst the crowd and prepared when the professor called out, "Dracula, Vladimir!"

There wasn't a stir in the hall at the name with the exception of the few muggleborns who had actually read the book that had made his father famous. It again made Vlad notice that most didn't know the Draculas actually existed and that piece of information was a comfort. Now others wouldn't have to be revolted or wary of him just because he had been born a vampire. They wouldn't have to know and would never have to know if Vlad had any say in it.

He walked up, trying not to show the anxiety that gripped him. As he settled on to the chair and gripped the edges of the seat with his fingertips, the professor plopped the worn hat on to his head and he was hit with the realization that the hat's brim was a little wide for his head. It covered most of his forehead and half of his eyes.

_Oh. Interesting._

Vlad immediately flinched at the words in his mind. He couldn't quite eradicate the apprehensive and instinctive twitch of his fingers. It wasn't normal for him to hear voices in his head unless it was his parents'. It was vampire etiquette not to do telepathic communication unless it was completely necessary or invited.

_Ah…I see_ _such_ _potential. But that is to be expected; you would not have been invited otherwise, no?_

He didn't like it, this voice. If it could "see" potential, what else could it see?

_So distrustful…and I see you are clever as well. You are different from your family – kind almost to a fault. But you aren't above your manipulations either, hm? Using your father's favoritism at times…_

No! It wasn't like that! He had never asked for vampire tradition to be patriarchal and he loved his sister. All of the times his father ignored Ingrid were painful to watch.

_In denial but obviously good at heart. It is what sets you apart from your kind. I assume you would enjoy Hufflepuff the most._

The House of the Hardworking and Loyal. Vlad could work with that. He had nothing against such traits and yellow was a nice, bright color. Hopefully they would be able to help with his search for a cure for his vampirism.

_Personal gain…even your motivations are not completely pure. But your goal is. Where to put you…_

A part – a large part – of Vlad was just desperate for a House he could fit in with. He wanted a House that would allow him to make friends and feel normal for once. Wasn't that the only thing he had ever wanted? The only thing he had ever truly asked for? It didn't matter to him which House so long as he fit.

_I see. Very well then._

Vlad wondered if the hat was really going to say Hufflepuff the split second before its seam opened up to yell the results. It had sounded like the only House the hat had mentioned and considered.

It was with surprise that Vlad heard "Slytherin!" bellowed throughout the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grr...didn't really like how that chapter ended but there it is. I tried fixing it but the thing just wouldn't come to me. So if inspiration hits, I'll be back to word it better.
> 
> Are you surprised that Vlad ended up in Slytherin? Ignoring the fact that I have a huge bias in favor of the house, I honestly think that deep down, Vlad would end up there. He asked to "fit in" after all. Yes, he is caring and unconditionally kind and forgiving. That is a HUGE part of his character. But if you really see how he behaves throughout the series (i.e. hypnotizing Robin for the girl they both wanted even though he knew it was an unfair advantage, using any means possible to get under his father's nose to find a cure to his vampirism, using his father to see if Ms. Van Hellsing was really mindwiped or not, etc.) he really does have a manipulative streak. It's really subtle and often times unintentional but Vlad does have the talent (and genes) for it. It becomes especially noticeable after he merges with his mirror-self.
> 
> Anyway that's why I put him in Slytherin. And I contemplated making him friends with Draco but then that would have made his life too easy. So now he's stuck in a house with one other student (with powerful connections) already out for vengeance. Fun stuff!
> 
> Till next time!


	4. Slytherins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that will get me sued.

**Chapter 4: Slytherins**

Vlad had been automatically dismayed to learn that he had landed himself in the most disliked House in the entire school. He hadn't quite had the chance to ask why Ron had hated Slytherin so much before, so Vlad had thought it was just a one-time preference on the redhead's part. Then he had gradually noticed how some of the other Houses – most noticeably the Gryffindor – grimaced or frowned whenever another Slytherin was announced. Vlad hadn't noticed the same reactions for his own Sorting but he had been too preoccupied with making his way to the table without tripping or humiliating himself. Most had probably displayed the same subtle hints of dislike when the hat had named him a part of the snakes.

It was as if Fate had decided to make normalcy impossible for Vlad. The very same boy, Draco, whom he had insulted in the train, was immediately named a part of the same House of Snakes and the subsequent "bodyguards" who had been trailing the blonde followed suit. Vlad watched with growing dismay as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Neville made their way over to Gryffindor. What sort of things would the Gryffindors say to those four? Ron was already biased. From the tension he felt from his new House, it was obvious that there was some sort of animosity between the Lions and Snakes.

"Well that was predictable," groused one of the older Slytherins as Harry was named Gryffindor. "His parents were good-for-nothing brutes as well. Of course Potter was going to end up there." There had been a tinge of disappointment in that tone, as if some had been hoping to see the Wizarding World's savior be sorted a snake. Vlad wondered if Harry really would have had that much influence, to change the tides of prejudice had he been Sorted differently.

By the time the last of the students were Sorted, Headmaster Dumbledore – "the old coot" Vlad heard Draco sneer derisively – stood up in all the grandeur of his age and prowess to say, "Nitwit, Blubber, Tweak!" Vlad struggled not to groan at the shortest welcoming speech he had ever heard. Even his school's headmaster was a little crazy.

The food that had magically appeared on the plates was a welcome reprieve from the quickly growing nightmare that was his school life. It was completely fresh and the very sight of all the delicacies made his mouth water. Having Renfield as their local cook had not necessarily meant edible meals and the culinary arts was one of the fields that his father pointedly neglected unless it involved blood. Few vampires took the liberties to learn what pleased the palate of Breathers. Vlad didn't hesitate to dive in and was happily oblivious to anything else for a few fleeting minutes.

It was only when he heard the "Hello" to his right while taking a sip of his juice that he was suitably distracted from his meal. Vlad placed his goblet down and turned to look at the boy beside him. He had dark brown hair, similar to Vlad's own, and brown eyes that glittered with dark curiosity. His frame was rather thin but his skin was a tanned sort of flawless and he was politely smiling as he introduced himself.

"My name is Theodore Nott," the boy said.

"I'm Vlad." They shook hands once before Vlad continued, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Just Vlad?" Theodore asked. "Forgive me for asking, but is that your full name?"

Of course. This was Slytherin. From the looks of it, there was hardly anybody here but heirs and heiresses to prominent Houses. "My full name is Vladimir Dracula."

"Not from Britain?" pitched in a girl sitting just opposite of them. "Oh, forgive me. My name is Pansy Parkinson. I just couldn't help but overhear as dearest Theo spoke to the newest addition to the Slytherin House."

She spoke as if she herself had been in the House for quite some time already, as if she hadn't been just Sorted like Vlad had been. Curious. Now that Vlad noticed that, it did seem as if the majority of the First Years at the table already knew each other. He hadn't heard any introductions aside from his own and they were all conversing rather animatedly as if they had been doing so for years. There was a sense of companionship and understanding that could among them that could only be formed over time. Well…that's what Vlad believed. But he might be completely off the mark considering he had so little social contact outside of his family's vampire acquaintances.

Vlad nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Pansy. And yes, my family doesn't live in Britain."

By now, it felt as if everybody within a five-foot radius had their attention partially if not fully focused on this exchange. If Vlad was right, and if everybody here already knew everybody, then he would be the largest unknown at the table. Of course he would be the center of interest. They were all probably judging him from his clothes to the way he twitched his face while he spoke.

It made Vlad want to cringe. This was starting to look far too much like the typical vampire society for his liking. At this rate, he would have to start thinking like his sister or father and that was something he had been trying to avoid in the first place.

As if they sensed that Vlad now knew their attention, another boy jumped in. "Blaise Zabini," he introduced. "It is just a guess, but does your family live in Russia,then, if you are not from Britain?"

"Not quite," Vlad replied. "I suppose you're guessing from my accent? Russian is a Slavic language and has a different sound. I am from Romania and Romanian is a Latin language. It's a mix of Byzantine, Slavic, and Latin."

Pansy cooed, "Oh…I must apologize for Blaise's poor predictions. We do not receive many foreign students here and I'm afraid the only prominent families we know further east are from Russia and several parts of Asia."

Vlad wasn't stupid. He knew what she was saying when she said that their families did not know any in Romania. She was trying to see whether he was actually from an important family at all without directly asking. Yet as much as this bristled on Vlad's nerves, he had to force himself to stop and think. Did he really want to announce that his family was prominent? He wanted nothing more than to say that his family was just like any other but that would make his life considerably harder in Slytherin. It was obvious that status was important here. Did he really want to bury himself inside of a snake pit without any protection?

Vlad's mouth tasted bitter when he said, "My father is a Count and my family well off. We own a couple of estates but my father has decided not to expand outside of the country because he loves Romania so much."

That bit of information immediately caused those listening to relax and actual welcoming expressions to come into full bloom upon their faces. They all now knew that Vlad was one of them now: privileged and wealthy. Vlad had tried to keep it as vague as possible and he was surprised to see that it worked; everybody seemed to accept his statement and assume that he was his or her definition of a suitable Slytherin.

"I will have to ask my mother to look up your family name," Blaise said offhandedly. "I have not heard of the Draculas but I'm sure it is because we just looked over your country. I'm sure we won't make that mistake again."

That sent a slight flutter of anxiety through Vlad's heart. His father truly was an important figure in Romania, but those who were not vampires most likely did not know it. Would their family be listed or even mentioned when Blaise's family looked it up?

"I knew you didn't quite fit with Potter and Weasley on the train," drawled a familiar voice. Vlad couldn't help but grimace at Draco's acidic tone and he avoided catching the blonde's gaze slightly further down the table. "All I had to do was look at how  _undignified_  those other two were to see it."

Vlad blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Really? I thought I was just  _trash_?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't push it, Dracula. You're lucky I'm letting your earlier…comment go. If I told my father what you said about my family and I, I'm sure you would be out of Hogwarts in days."

Sometimes Vlad wondered if it would be profitable to buy himself a muzzle. His mouth just wouldn't shut up at the worst of times. Now that he had antagonized Draco, several of the others were glancing uncertainly at Vlad. They clearly trusted and knew the blonde better.

Vlad was saved the need to reply when the ghosts made their appearance again. This time, he was prepared for it and was slightly amused to hear Draco shriek a little as a particularly bloody spirit popped its head through the blonde's plate.

"You're the Bloody Baron," Draco said with a slight tremor in his voice.

The ghost raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, young Malfoy. I recall your father saying the exact same thing when he was a First Year. I suppose the apple does not fall far from the tree."

Bats, this was strange. The blood hardly fazed Vlad at all considering there was a whole cellar of the stuff stored in his home but the mere fact that they were conversing with a long-dead soul was strange. His father had never mentioned their existence before; the Count had even said ghosts didn't exist. Perhaps they didn't for vampires. All a vampire turned into upon his or her death was dust. Maybe they didn't have a soul to wander in eternal afterlife.

The Bloody Baron scanned the newcomers to his House and appraised them all. Occasionally, he nodded or motioned his head in the direction of a student he recognized as part of a family he once knew but when he settled his gaze upon Vlad, his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Fascinating," the Baron murmured. "And I thought admitting a werewolf a few years back had been bad enough."

Vlad knew all too well what the ghost was referring to. This being knew what Vlad was and that unnerved the young vampire. Why did this dead wizard know but current ones didn't? It was something he would have to look into later. Right now, he was just relieved that the single comment hadn't revealed too much. All it did was elicit some confused looks from his fellow housemates.

Vlad coughed uncomfortably. "That's…um...interesting." He turned to Theodore in slight desperation. "What exactly decides how one becomes a ghost?" Hopefully, that was enough to suitably distract the crowd.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "I hope you are not asking because you wish to be one."

"Of course not!" Vlad exclaimed, horrified. "I – I was just curious because I have never seen a ghost before."

"Calm down, young one," the Bloody Baron murmured amusedly. "Mr. Nott was merely jesting."

"You have no sense of humor," smiled Pansy teasingly. "Loosen up, Dracula."

Yeah, right. Loosen up and he'd be stabbed in the back in seconds.

"Ghosts are the still-wandering spirits of the unsatisfied," Draco drawled, bored. "Do they teach you nothing in Romania?"

"Perhaps in Romania, there  _are_  no unsatisfied spirits," Vlad retorted.

Draco snorted and turned back to his plate as if the foreign student was suddenly beneath his attention.

"Oh, you're no fun, Draco," Pansy whined. Blaise only raised an eyebrow as Theo shrugged and returned to his own meal. Silence then lent a heavy air among them and Vlad was a little unsettled to see how easily the others followed Malfoy's lead. The Bloody Baron merely watched the exchange curiously and gave the young vampire one last cursory glance before floating away to muse.

~0~

The Slytherin quarters were, oddly enough,  _comforting_  in Vlad's opinion. Oh, it was almost overly ornate, lit with only a few candles, and alight with an almost supernatural glow from the lake's waters that encompassed the entirety of the grand windows lining two walls of the Common Room. It seemed depressing and slightly pompous in all definitions and there was no sign of the warm, comforting colors that would have signified a more  _normal_  environment. Vlad might have preferred less emerald and fewer snake carvings but overall he found the place a cleaner version of his own castle back at home. Hence, the sense of the odd comfort and familiarity.

And wasn't it ironic that the boy who had wanted to escape his vampiric lifestyle found this place reassuring?

Vlad noticed how almost none of the new students expressed any reaction upon seeing the Common Room. Perhaps they were used to such environments as well or their own parents had already prepared them for such a sight.

The Prefects were quick and concise yet thorough with their tour. The girls' dorms would be to the left while the boys' dorms would be down the right corridor. The bathrooms were split and placed in each respective side. Showers were beside the bathrooms and studying could be done both in their private dorms as well as the Common Room where several long tables were organized for that express purpose. There was also a private collection of donated books from Slytherins past that went further into the school topics if one needed help outside of the main library the entire school shared and an operating Floo system was installed into the Common Room fireplace that could be used with Head of House permission. When the Prefects had finished their required monologue, Vlad and his fellow male dorm mates were finally allowed free rein to explore their shared quarters.

What Blaise, who had taken the liberty of opening the door to their room first, and the rest of them hadn't been expecting upon entering was a surprise attack from a black ball of fur. It elicited a slight shocked shout from most of them but Vlad rushed forward, apologizing for his cat.

"Bloody…!" Blaise scowled as he pushed the feline into Vlad's hands. "Is this yours?"

Vlad grinned sheepishly. "I received him when shopping for my school supplies. I haven't had much time to train him yet."

Theo scanned the animal. "It's not a Kneazle?"

"What?" Vlad blinked.

"Merlin, Dracula," Draco sneered. "Have you been living under a rock? A Kneazle is a highly intelligent magical feline."

"Oh," Vlad replied before giving his cat a considering look. "I'm not so sure. My father never told me what it is."

"Have you not named it either?" Theo asked. "You are calling it 'it' rather than a proper name."

Vlad was suddenly wishing that he had gotten more than one volume of  _The Wizards' World for the Ignorant_  and that he had actually formed a name for his cat. He probably looked very foolish owning a familiar and not knowing what to call it and the few blunders he had made earlier in the evening were not doing his claim that he came from a wealthy family any favors. It seemed as if wealth equaled knowledge to these Slytherins.

"I'd call it Nox," Blaise snapped irritably. Clearly, he did not take a potentially harmless attack from a small feline very well. "Bloody thing is so dark it seemed to come out of nowhere."

Vlad brightened immediately at the suggestion and gave Blaise a smile. "That's perfect!"

The other boy sniffed and swept past the Romanian to search for his designated bed. Their belongings had been already placed beside certain beds and their clothes (which Vlad was pretty sure he had locked away in his trunk) had been hung inside small private closets that fit snugly occupied every bunk. Vlad cradled his cat – Kneazle? – and went to find his own belongings and was relieved to see that it was located near one of the three windows in the room. This way, it would seem less claustrophobic; there was a reason Vlad had wanted the highest tower room back at home. He hated feeling restricted.

Vlad settled on top of the emerald covers cloaking his new bed for the next seven years. He grinned a little and held his familiar in front of him. A wry quirk touched his lips as he asked, "Nox. Do you like it?"

Perhaps the cat really was a Kneazle. There was no way that mischievous spark in those mismatched, feline eyes could mean anything less than understanding.

~0~

Vlad waited until the final candles had dimmed and the last of the boys settled under their blankets and the first snores to penetrate the air before he silently reached down into his trunk to extract a quill, an inkbottle, and a single role of parchment in the darkness. Vlad winced when he realized that he had no solid surface to write upon but he was reluctant to crawl out of bed and risk being seen writing at a desk. There was also no light to write by but he had long ago learned how to scribble a few things blindly. His father had the habit of casting away all of the fires before heading to his coffin and more often than not, Renfield was holed away doing a dangerous experiment when Vlad did need some light. It was true that the Count was awake at night and the candles lit then, but the few times he overslept Vlad and his sister were reduced to writing in darkness when they needed to finish an assignment for a private tutor who might be coming and expecting assignments completed.

Vlad braced the parchment against his knee as he sat upright on the mattress and frowned. He knew how to write all sorts of formal invitations or decrees and whatnot but he had never had the need to just write a simple letter to somebody he knew well. He never knew where to send one for his mother because she was always shifting, always moving and after a few years of her infrequent "visits", he had stopped wanting to write letters to her. His sister and father lived with him so direct contact was all he needed to communicate with them and he had never truly known his grandparents. In short, he had no idea how to start his letter home.

The first few attempts in Vlad's mind consisted of initial inquiries about how things were at home but he quickly discarded those; his father always found reporting such events dull. After a myriad of other ideas, he finally settled on a simple hello and a description of what the Hogwarts Express and castle were like. Vlad briefly mentioned that he had been placed in Slytherin House but he did not dwell on it not only because it was still a slightly sore spot but also because his father most likely had no idea what it would mean anyway. He worked up the nerve to ask how his sister was doing as well and ended rather awkwardly with a goodbye.

When he was finally finished, Vlad rolled it up and bit his thumb to smear some of his blood over the outer edge of the parchment. His blood would inform his father whom it was from and keep Renfield from immediately destroying the letter. The Count had learned over the decades to discard of any unidentified mail; apparently, quite a few vengeful mistresses from affairs past were still out for his head.

Vlad leaned forward to gently prod Nox awake when he had everything in order and smiled apologetically at the feline's irritated blink.

"Sorry about this," Vlad whispered. "But could you please deliver this to Dad for me?"

The cat continued to glare and Vlad sighed before adding, "I'll give you some of my breakfast tomorrow."

Immediately, Nox was up and prodding the young vampire's hand for the letter. Vlad grinned and opened his palm for the cat to securely grasp it in its mouth. Normally, owls did the duty of delivering mail, but the Count had told Vlad that this particular cat had been trained to do the same. It didn't matter the distance; Nox would get the letter wherever Vlad wanted it to go. Again, the young vampire suspected magic at work but he doubted he would ever be able to verify it. Vlad opened the drapes for Nox to exit the bed and watched the feline slink away and eventually blend into the night that so matched its fur.

~0~

The morning found Vlad sprawled haphazardly on his bed and a rather impatient Theo trying to wake the vampire up.

"It's seven-thirty for Merlin's sake!" Theo snapped as Vlad blearily rubbed his eyes. "Everybody else woke up an hour ago!"

Vlad groaned, pushing Nox off his chest. "Are they down at breakfast already?"

"Thanks to you: no," Draco drawled from afar. "We do not receive our schedules down at breakfast like the rest of the Houses. The Slytherin prefects prefer to hand them out in the Common Room."

Vlad frowned. Now that he was awake, he saw all of the boys in his dorm fully dressed and scowling.

"Why are all of you waiting then?"

Theo grit his teeth. "Because they need everybody in our dorm present. It doesn't look good if we walk down to breakfast already fractioned off, except we didn't learn that until we walked down to ask for our schedules and had Flint chew us out for a good ten minutes."

So they  _had_  tried to just leave him here. Vlad should have known they would. Everybody for themselves in the House of the cunning and ambitious. It made him want to scream at the unfairness of having been placed here. While the Slytherin boys themselves were decent once past their initial high-nosed attitudes, natural giving and selflessness had not been ingrained into them.

"Give me a few minutes," Vlad said, his face carefully blank as he grabbed his toiletries and headed towards the shared bathroom. He swiftly brushed his teeth before showering and was back out with his hair still damp.

He was pulling on the standard trousers that went underneath the robes and pulling on a vest when Blaise asked, "What on earth are you putting on?"

Vlad glanced at the bright green vest he had in his hands and blinked. "My uniform."

"But why is it neon?"

The vampire looked at the clothing again with his brow furrowed. "It's just a little bright."

"It might have been different in Romania, Dracula," Draco drawled irritably. "But in Britain, we don't aim to blind anybody who looks at us."

If Vlad hadn't known any better, he could have sworn he had just signed himself up for seven years with a House of vampires. Who knew Slytherins had a penchant for dark colors? "There's no rule against it. It's green like my House colors and that's all the rules ask for."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just put it on so we can go."

Last night, Vlad thought he had maneuvered decently with his housemates but his debacle this morning was clearly ruining things for him. Honestly, much of this had been his fault for staying up past sleeping hours to write a letter and he should have known to wake himself up on time. Vlad quickly shrugged on his vest and robes before grasping his bag to sling over his shoulder.

In the corner, Crabbe whimpered, "Finally. Can we go eat now?"

The group of boys made its way down to the common room and waited as one Prefect checked them all off and handed them their schedules before Crabbe got his wish. By the time they were down in the Main Hall, most of the tables were already filled with chattering students. Vlad made sure to seat himself towards the edge of his housemates to avoid their irritation and grabbed a roll to nibble on while scanning his classes.

It was rather predictable considering almost all of the First Years shared the same core courses. Variety and choice only came around Third Year from what Vlad had read over the summer. Classes began at eight in the morning and Vlad sadly glanced at the welcoming breakfast feast before deciding that it would be best to forgo a fancy meal. He still wasn't sure of the castle's layout and he could easily finish a quick nibble on the way there.

Grabbing a few more rolls, Vlad stood up and pocketed his schedule. He briefly contemplated waiting for the others but he swiftly decided against it. They hadn't spoken to him once past the Slytherin Common Room and they were clearly still displeased with him.

Fine. Let them have their way. If they were going to hold a grudge about it, Vlad was hardly going to try to convince them otherwise.

All Vlad really wanted right now was to curse the Sorting Hat into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peoples :) So first thing's first: Vlad doesn't necessarily hate Slytherin House despite what it sounds like at the end of the chapter. He just as a dislike for it for now because he's suddenly plunged back into an environment similar to the one he had tried to escape. He doesn't hate the boys nor does he hate that he is one of them; he just hates the way the society in Slytherin works.
> 
> Guess he doesn't know how well he can do there, huh?
> 
> Anyway this was a sort of a filler chapter but it was needed. The cat needed a name and the initial interactions with the Slytherin kids were sort of crucial.
> 
> Wonder how Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville are doing in Gryffindor?
> 
> Till next time!


	5. Wandless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued. So please, don't sue me; I do not own Harry Potter or Young Dracula.

**Chapter 5: Wandless**

When Vlad finally made his way to his first class, Transfigurations, he was relieved to see that he was far from the last person inside; only Hermione and a rather ruffled looking Neville occupied two seats directly in the front. A slight smile quirked Vlad's mouth when he realized that the female Gryffindor had probably dragged her male companion down here. Neville had eagerly turned at the sound of the classroom door opening and only a person desperate for escape did so.

Hermione turned primly a moment later and raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's good to see that we're not the only people who arrive early, right Neville?"

Neville nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, sure."

"Have you already prepared for Transfigurations? I've gone through the first eleven chapters of  _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_  but I'm planning on the finishing the rest this week. I can't fall behind, now can I?" Hermione fired off. "I'm rather excited for this class and I especially can't wait to get to Hackle's Morphing Theory."

Thank the bats that he had little to do over the summer preceding this school year. If Vlad hadn't immersed himself in the textbooks, he would have had no idea what the Gryffindor was talking about. Luckily, he had gotten to Hackle's Morphing Theory and he smiled back to say, "I can't wait either. Hopefully our professor will go into detail how the nature of the object will affect the particular motions of the spell castor. It got a little fuzzy for me when I reached the third hypothesis Hackle came up with."

There was a slight look of astonishment on Hermione's face – as if she hadn't expected that reply. Vlad's smile turned uneasy before he was struck with the realization that while her excitement about magic had been sincere, she had been deliberately flaunting her knowledge. That bit of information now tinted Vlad's view of her a little and it made him rather subdued. Was it really necessary to show off like that? Vlad didn't have much more time to ponder the question before the doors behind him opened to reveal the Slytherin troupe. Apparently, they had decided to leave breakfast not too long after he had.

All of them gave him a cursory glance before immediately placing themselves on the opposite side of the room Hermione and Neville were seated at. It was a clear that they wanted nothing to do with the lions and judging from the way they had given him that quick look before sitting, they thought he should join as well.

But this was exactly what Vlad had been aiming to avoid. What was wrong with making friends from other Houses even if they did have a tendency to keep toads and show off? He wasn't going to be an elitist; that was exactly what his father wanted from him and what all vampires were expected to do. Vlad wanted to keep all options open, be receptive to every experience he could get. What was the point of restricting himself to one particular group of associates? So when a group of Gryffindors came in a few minutes later, Vlad decided to seat himself in the center – right smack dab in the middle of the divide.

Several of the lions looked at him curiously, as if wondering who would be crazy enough to  _choose_  to sit alone on the first day of class. None of the Slytherins even glanced his way, but Vlad could tell by the way they tensed their shoulders and cast each other looks that they were wondering the same thing. They were all probably wondering what crazy person would not choose a side when it was clear there were only two to choose from. It made Vlad a little sad to realize that his dorm mates weren't going to do anything more than hint that they expected unity among them in public and even more disappointed to see that almost all of the Gryffindors pointedly avoided eye contact with him after seeing the snake embroidered on to his robes.

Apparently, prejudice ran on both sides of the battle.

All of them sat waiting for a good while. Time started to drag on and Vlad was beginning to wonder whether the professor had forgotten today was the first day of class when a tabby cat appeared out of nowhere. It ran its bright eyes over the room before primly seating itself on top of the large table in the front. The class tensed at the animal's presence and Vlad could taste something magically tangible about the situation for the briefest of moments before the doors opened again with a loud thud.

Harry and Ron came stumbling inside, panting and disheveled. It was obvious that they had been running in a desperate attempt to arrive on time.

"Well, good thing McGonagall isn't here," Ron grinned victoriously.

Everybody gasped when the cat in front materialized before their eyes into the severe woman who had introduced them to the castle before the Sorting. Vlad stared at the woman as she lectured the two tardy Gryffindors and a sense of wonder overcame him. Sure, he had seen plenty displays of vampiric magic all his life and morphing into bats and wolves had been common. But to see that the range of such abilities stretched far beyond the vampire restrictions excited him and gave a slight twitch to his fingers, eager to begin.

Vlad barely noticed when the professor finished and commanded the two to take to seat. It was only when Harry made a move to sit beside Vlad that reality came back into focus. For the briefest of moments, hope and excitement rose in the young vampire's chest. Finally, here was somebody who was willing to take a chance with the neutral!

But then Harry hesitated in his movements as his eyes ran over the green accenting the edges of his hood and sleeves and hesitated even more when Ron whispered, "Where are you going, Harry?"

The Wizarding World's celebrity glanced over at his redhead friend and bit his lips when he saw Ron already seated on the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Indecision clouded Harry's emerald eyes and Vlad waited patiently, his face never betraying the hope that was begging for somebody to sit beside him. But then Harry looked away and seated himself with the rest of his House to leave Vlad alone once again.

Vlad wasn't going to lie: that hurt. There was nothing worse than having one's expectations raised only to see them crushed. It was a bitter pill to swallow and suddenly the possibility of starting over appeared far more distant than it had at the beginning. How was he supposed to make a normal life for himself in a society already stratified?

For now, he wasn't going to give up. Everybody deserved a chance.

Vlad was a little disappointed to find that their first class involved no spell casting whatsoever but he realized that it made sense. For those of them who hadn't read the books ahead of time or had tutors to help, starting off with a spell with no knowledge of how it worked would have been disastrous.

Still, Vlad's first day had turned out a little dull because of the slow start and the subsequent frostiness surrounding the other Slytherins' attitude towards him just put a further damper on the mood. They had accepted him well enough the night before, but upon seeing his teetering loyalties, a sort of wall had developed between them. It was childish in Vlad's opinion and he was willing to admit that he was slightly sour about it as well. It wasn't like he didn't understand them. He had grown up knowing that attitude and the reasons behind it. Within the elite, groups and belonging with the group mattered a great deal. Integrating oneself with the so-called "enemy" – even if it was just a declaration of impartiality – meant betrayal and betrayal was not easily forgotten. Perhaps this situation was not so severe as to brand Vlad a traitor, but the general feeling was the same; the other boys had felt that they had been rejected and therefore reciprocated in kind to retaliate.

For all of Vlad's knowledge – knowing that what he was doing was not wrong at all – this attitude still managed to make him feel guilty. It irritated him to no end that they somehow managed to make  _him_  the antagonist in all of this when, in reality, he was just a neutral bystander.

Even Vlad had to admit how sad it was that he ended up spending his first few nights at Hogwarts not in the Common Room or surrounded by newfound friends as he had planned, but in the school library poring over the books. He probably painted a pitiful figure sitting alone in a corner with stacks of books nearly obscuring his frame from view. He hadn't wanted to stay in the Slytherin dorms because he might run into one of the boys and he hadn't wanted to seek company in the form of any of the other Gryffindors either because he was fairly sure they would not take so well to a Slytherin in their midst. In the end, the only option he saw was to immerse himself in a place nobody would bother him at.

The Count and Ingrid had never understood why Vlad had enjoyed completing and working though homework and duties he had been assigned that was not related to vampiric sources. He took particular pleasure in doing what any sane child would hate and something told Vlad that even the students at Hogwarts would eventually find him strange for enjoying work. It all again tied back to the fact that doing homework was  _normal_ and something any decent vampire would avoid. It gave him a sense that he was just another kid who was doing just another assignment. That, and books had always given him a sort of solace to return to – a solid companion when so many things in his life were never permanent.

So went the rest of the first week. Some time on the fifth day, Vlad had decided to pull out one of the books he had checked out from the library and took up the practice of reading during his lessons. What many of his professors introduced to him in the beginning was just a repeat of books he had already read and he found it dull. None of them seemed to notice or if they did notice, none of them seemed to mind.

Harry had taken to glancing at him in every class Gryffindor and Slytherin. When Ron had loudly asked what Harry was doing during one class, Vlad had decided to seat himself further apart, slightly closer to the Slytherins. A part of him was screaming that what he was doing was stupid and he was only distancing himself from people who might be potential friends but he wanted somebody to actually have the guts to approach him rather than the other way around. If Harry wasn't going to take the effort to escape the others and approach him, then why should he do the same?

Or maybe he really was a solitary vampire after all and it was his fault for not making the first move.

Either way, sitting alone in no man's land had managed to gain him more than the students' glances. Many of his teachers surreptitiously watched him as if he were a strange variable to the equation and during their first Potions class, their professor had expressly called him out.

The dungeons had already been a rather damp and dusky place to reside, but the Potions labs were even further down than the Slytherin dorms. Vlad had almost wrinkled his facial expression when first entering the classroom and several Gryffindors made disgusted and nervous sounds. The entire place had been lit with only a few candles and almost every surface gleamed a sleek black. It seemed a place prone to accidents and the various bubbling concoctions around the place had set Vlad's hair on edge. He had read about Potions, of course, and it sounded not unlike the daily activities that Renfield back at home enjoyed doing.

The class had arranged itself into the typical divide between Houses with the noticeable exception of Vlad. He stood alone at a center table and noticed uneasily that the counter set-up had been for a pair. He wasn't quite sure whether the potions they were making required more than one person to create, but something told him that there was a reason why there were only two seats per stand and one empty flask on each desk.

At the exact second class began, Professor Snape – the Slytherin Head of House – came sweeping into the classroom with all the presence of a man not afraid to punish his students. Vlad had never seen him before that moment and he had been struck by the severity of the man's expression. It had been clear that the Potions Master had suffered from an affliction of a crooked nose and a permanently dour disposition. There had been an aura of intense negativity about him as if nothing in his life had gone right.

Vlad had the pretty fair impression that this was not a teacher to mess with.

"There will be no silly wand waving in this class," Professor Snape had immediately drawled, his eyes contemptuously running over the Gryffindor's side of the room. Almost all of the lions had flushed and magical conductors had been hastily placed away. "Potions is a delicate art and it transcends the more mindless actions of drawing pretty pictures in the air and shouting words in hopes of achieving some result. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. I don't expect many of you will truly understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

There had been a slight undercurrent of a passion in the professor's voice and even though it had been slightly grayed by the bitterness oozing from his very being, Vlad had still been fascinated and intimidated. Here was somebody who truly knew what he was talking about (not like his other professors didn't) and could offer much if one took the extra effort. Something had told Vlad that this man wasn't the type to easily divulge information to those who showed little care for the subject.

Almost the moment Professor Snape had finished his monologue, he had focused upon Harry. A flash of hatred had fluttered through those eyes but it had been so brief Vlad had almost missed it. "Ah, our own…celebrity. Tell me, Potter, have you even gotten past the first page of your Potions textbook?"

Annoyance had immediately tickled Vlad's stomach. It hadn't fair of the man to ask such a thing. Even though it probably would have been the intelligent thing to do, Harry had most likely not done so. Entering an entirely new world had that effect on people. If Vlad had suddenly been told that magic existed on his eleventh birthday, he too would have been more concerned with the brilliance around him rather than a textbook he could have been reading. Perhaps this Potions Master was one of the forerunners of his subject, but the simple bullying he proceeded to place Harry through had immediately dampened some of the respect Vlad had felt previously.

When Harry had gaped in surprise at the question, a sneer had marred the already bitter face of the professor and he had snapped, "Of course you haven't. Incompetent. Let me make this clear to you, Mr. Potter: just because the rest of the world adores does not mean you can get away with laziness in my class."

Harry had only stared in poorly masked shock. What, exactly, had he done to earn his professor's ire? Nobody in the room seemed to know but Vlad noticed that the Slytherins took a little too much pleasure in the scene.

As Professor Snape's gaze had absently scanned the room after his attack, he had caught the anomaly that was oddly seated in the center. His eyes had narrowed a little upon seeing Vlad's form alone and then it widened upon spotting the Slytherin crest. Apparently, that had just been a surprise to the professor as it had been to the rest of Vlad's House had first seen him do it.

"And why are you sitting alone, Mr.…?"

"Dracula, sir," Vlad had politely supplied. "Vlad Dracula."

Something akin to recognition had touched the man's eyes but in the lighting, Vlad couldn't be quite sure whether it was due to his name or just a trick of the darkness. Perhaps the professor had read the novel like Harry had.

"Well, Mr. Dracula. In Potions, it is preferable that you work with a partner. It prevents accidents from occurring and speeds up much of the process in order to ensure the potions finished at a suitable time limit."

Vlad had wanted to bite his lip. "Sir, I believe there is an uneven number of students in this class."

Professor Snape's eyes had automatically moved to count the number himself and upon finishing, nodded once and he had crisply replied, "Well, then. It appears you have drawn an unlucky card. It seems you will have to complete the remainder of the year on your own." It had seemed complete and the subject dropped, but Vlad knew well enough to distinguish the cadences of other voices. Something was bothering his Head of House and it had been something entirely different from the mere uneven pairs of students.

~0~

In the end, it hadn't truly mattered. They had spent the rest of the class preparing and ensuring all procedures were understood like all the rest of their classes before. None of the teachers, not even Professor Snape, had seemed willing to risk any sort of accident the first week.

So when their Charms class the second week of school meant trying out their very first spells, it was understandable that there an air of excitement among the First Years.

Vlad woke up the first morning of the second week with a slight smile curling his lips and he was the first out the dorms for the first time that entire year. Breakfast flew by as a speedy feeding session for Nox and soon, Vlad was seated in his customary center seat just waiting for Professor Flitwick's instructions.

"Remember class," the small man had chirped. "Swish and flick! Swish and flick! And what was the incantation?"

"Wingardium Leviosa!" the class chorused for the hundredth time.

"Very good, very good!" the professor clapped. "Now why don't all of you give it a try? Go ahead!"

They didn't need anymore encouragement. The room was automatically filled with a host of shouting, prodding, and excited rabble. Vlad himself happily threw himself into the task but was hit with the sudden realization that it just might be a little queer for him to be casting a spell without a wand. Did the professor already know that he couldn't use a wand?

Vlad hesitated and stared at the feather on his desk. He wanted nothing more than to try to taste that magic he had felt upon first placing on the band around his arm, but maybe this would just make him stand out again – mark him as  _strange_. Everybody around him was using a wand.

Vlad tentatively reached out his hand and it hovered over the light object in front of him. Was he supposed to wave his hand like wand? It wasn't like he had a definite conductor to mimic the movements of a wand but it also wouldn't hurt to try. He swished and flicked as he had seen the professor do with his wand and murmured the incantation beneath his breath but nothing happened. Vlad hadn't felt anything and it probably seemed as if he had just stupidly talked to a feather. He tried again, this time blocking out the sounds of the others around him. Maybe if he just focused more…

It still didn't work.

Five more attempts of the same thing just resulted in a motionless feather. A slightly frustrated growl escaped his lips and he withdrew his hand. Apparently, using his hand as a conductor was pointless. Maybe he should refer back to the early days of having his band on when he had been capable of using magic effortlessly. That had been all a fluke of drunken power – Vlad hadn't even truly known what he was doing – but maybe if he just mimicked what he had felt back then, something would turn up.

Vlad close his eyes and breathed slowly. His magic was in his blood, in his very being. He wasn't like the typical wizard. If that were the case, he would have to  _feel_  his magic and draw it up…and maybe through his skin? Something like that…

Almost immediately, something stirred within him. He let out a slight breathless gasp at the sensation but he eagerly clung to the reaction and coaxed it to continue. Slowly, ever so slowly, something akin to fire or sparks seemed to settle just beneath his veins, ready for him to use – to  _command_.

Vlad's eyes snapped open and he only had to think the action for the feather to jerk to eyelevel.

He held the feather like so for a grand total of five seconds before the fire beneath his skin faded back into the recesses and he was left breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon. Vlad was taken aback by just how tired he was by the simple act of lifting a feather but a sense of accomplishment pervaded his mind. He had found a way to access his magic and wasn't that the important part?

The rest of the class finally came back into focus. Everybody else was still attempting to lift his or her own feather and Vlad noticed with slight pride that he had been the first to cast the incantation correctly (even though he hadn't really  _said_  the incantation). Nobody seemed to have noticed his victory though – the downfall of sitting alone.

"You go ahead and do it then," snapped Ron's voice angrily from the side, suddenly loud enough for the rest of the class to hear. "If you know so much, then you do it."

"Fine," Hermione replied curtly. She primly picked her wand and confidently said, "Wingardium Leviosa." Vlad wasn't surprised to see her feather fly up immediately. What he was surprised by was how effortless it seemed for her and how high up the object went. Why was it that he had such a difficult time? Was it because he was doing his magic wandlessly?

He turned his attention back to his feather and frowned. It was clear that having some sort of focus made using magic easier. Surely there was  _something_  to help him perform just as effortlessly. He didn't want to be the only person out of his entire class panting over something as simple as lifting a feather. What was something that could help him?

The sudden image of his father snapping his fingers to light the candles in their home came to mind and Vlad felt the urge to slap his palm to his forehead. Honestly, would snapping help that much?

Vlad focused on the feather again and snapped experimentally, not really expecting any result.

He jerked backwards and yelped a little bit when that rush of magic overcame him again and the feather flew upwards. Vlad was incredulous that snapping actually had worked and winced a little when he noticed that this time, everybody was looking at him.

"Oh, very good, Mr. Dracula!" Professor Flitwick squealed from below. The little teacher tottered up the aisle to get a closer look at Vlad's display of magic and continued, "Second in the class to achieve it; very good!" When the man finally came into Vlad's line of sight, the young vampire tentatively grinned at the Charms professor. The man had such a bright, cheerful smile beneath his mustache that it was difficult not to.

A few moments longer though, the professor was no longer smiling, but staring a little confusedly.

"Where is your wand, Mr. Dracula?"

Vlad blinked and a sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. "My wand?" It was probably a stupid question considering everybody here had one.

"Yes…wizards need wands to perform magic, Mr. Dracula."

"Erm," Vlad stammered. "Well…I don't use a wand."

The Charms professor glanced up at the still floating feather and nodded slowly. "I can see that." He seemed lost in thought for a few moments before his face brightened again. "You are a very talented wizard, then, Mr. Dracula. Very few –  _very_  few – wizards can perform magic without a wand."

~0~

"You don't have a  _wand_?" asked Blaise with a hint of shock in his voice. The group of Slytherins who had been so pointedly aloof towards Vlad the past week had suddenly decided to take interest in the young vampire the moment the Charms class had ended. The second Vlad had taken a step into the hallway, the entire hoard had cornered him. "How can you do wandless magic already?"

"It's got to be a trick," Pansy sniffed. "That isn't possible. My father said that only the greatest wizards and witches in the world could do that."

Vlad scowled. He wasn't quite in the mood to deal with them. They hadn't been mean to him before, but they had pointedly left him to his own devices. Now that he suddenly seemed to stand out and have some potential value, they finally stepped forward to approach him again. "Are you saying that I can't be a great wizard?"

"What she's saying," Draco said, his thin voice cutting through the air like a knife, "is that only the  _fully trained_  and  _fully developed_  powerful wizards can perform wandless magic. It's unheard of in students like us unless it's accidental magic."

Perfect. Not having a wand really did make Vlad stand out. "Come on, surely there's been somebody who has done wandless magic a little early."

"Probably not since Merlin himself," Theo replied. "And even then we're not so sure."

Vlad certainly didn't want them to begin thinking he was as powerful as Merlin. He wasn't. He just happened to be a vampire with a band hidden under his clothes that made it seem like he was doing magic without a conductor. But that wasn't something he was going to tell the Slytherins. Not now. Who knew what they'd think of him once they found out he wasn't exactly human?

"Let's get to Astronomy, Dracula," Draco drawled, pulling Vlad out of his thoughts. "Don't just stand there; thinking too hard is rather unbecoming on you." The young vampire was about to snap back a retort when the little tug of amusement on Draco's lips stopped him.

Had that been…a joke?

~0~

Headmaster Dumbledore had a lot on his mind. This was the first year Harry Potter was back in the Wizarding World and most likely the first year Voldemort was back on the move since his disappearance ten years before. It had been a good ten years of peace that almost everybody thought would last, but Dumbledore knew better; Tom Riddle was hardly somebody to underestimate. The boy had been a brilliant wizard but that brilliance had, unfortunately, been accompanied by some rather unsavory goals.

A knock on his door made the Headmaster perk his head up from its position on his clasped hands. "Come in."

The short form of Filius Flitwick came into view and a touch of curiosity arose within Dumbledore's mind. The Charms professor was an easygoing man and very kind. He was hardly somebody to be belittled though; he was a formidable duelist and somebody Dumbledore was proud to have on his side. Son of a witch and a goblin had certainly labeled the man a target for bullying as a child and yet he had somehow come out of it all strong and filled with unshakeable morals. Overall, Filius was a good man and somebody who almost never visited the Headmaster unless necessary.

"What bring you to my humble abode tonight, Filius?"

The professor let out a long sigh and pulled himself up into a chair. "Headmaster, were you aware that one of the students this year does not have a wand?"

Well, that certainly was a cause for concern. "Oh, the poor thing. Perhaps we could lend the child one until one could be bought?"

"That isn't it, Headmaster. The boy…doesn't seem to  _need_  a wand."

The older wizard's brow furrowed. "Doesn't need a wand?"

"He can perform magic wandlessly. I was teaching my First Years the Levitating Charm today and the lad just had the feather floating without a single piece of wood in sight!"

Dumbledore frowned. So there was an anomaly among his students this year. Was this child somebody he would have to watch carefully? Somebody to worry about? "What House is he in and what is his name, Filius?"

"Vladimir is a Slytherin, Headmaster."

A Slytherin. Yes, this was somebody he was going to have to watch. There was always a reason why certain children were Sorted into that House. This boy was powerful and apparently he had the cunning and ambition to make the House of the Snakes. Dumbledore would just have to make sure that Voldemort never even came into the picture with this Vladimir. Who knew what the Dark Lord would use the boy for a few years from now, when the child was more developed and trained?

"There is another thing, Headmaster."

That was not necessarily what Dumbledore wanted to hear after discovering that there was a student strong enough to use wandless magic consciously. "What is it, Filius?"

"The child sits…alone."

"Alone?"

"He chooses to sit in the center of things and watch. I have yet to see him speak unless spoken to."

The Headmaster's eyebrows rose. "He doesn't sit with his Housemates?"

"He sits with neither his dorm mates nor the Gryffindors."

A slight smile touched Dumbledore's mouth. Perhaps there was hope for this Vladimir after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright...well...I really didn't like how I handled some of the transitions in there O-O It makes me annoyed whenever I read it but after staring at this for a few days, I just decided to post this and wait for true inspiration to hit me later. It's sort of slow paced right now in the story but I'll probably pick it up soon.
> 
> And, um, Vlad is not a loner. He just really wanted to make friends and suddenly, just because he was sitting in the middle and deciding not to choose sides, people weren't talking to him. It is kind of sad because all he really wanted was some sort of companionship without discriminating between Houses. Too bad Vlad has no idea how deeply this sort of thing runs already. I don't think he quite grasps that this sort of thinking was reinforced since the CRIB. I mean, it's a lot more than just House issues. There is the political and Light and Dark sides that's really at war. Because it's kind of obvious that Slytherins lean more towards the Darker spectrum and the Gryffindors towards the Light.
> 
> Anyway since Vlad doesn't quite grasp the underlying issues, he's just going to stumble along for now (just how I like it). Besides, the Slytherins perked up after that Charms lesson, right? :)
> 
> And yes, I made Harry go with the flow. He's new, and he used to be stuck in a cupboard until this year. Did you really expect a poor kid who has never had a real social life stand out and go against what his Housemates tell him? No...I don't think so. It will take longer for Harry to get used to his environment and adjust to get his sense of self and individuality. He has to get over the feeling of having to please others around him first and figure out that he doesn't have to follow the status quo to make friends.
> 
> Till next time!


	6. Interludes and Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that will get me sued.

**Chapter 6: Interludes and Halloween**

"It has to be a trick," Pansy had muttered to them all following the Charms lesson. "There's no way that could be true."

Blaise made a slight noise in his throat that just escaped the definition of a scoff. "I think none of us are blind. It was obvious that Dracula  _could_  and  _did_  do it."

"But how?" Theo said almost to himself. "It shouldn't be possible."

Draco sighed and interwove his pale fingers. This conversation had been inevitable. One didn't just see a wandless magic and forget about it, especially not people like them. They had been taught from the very beginning to seek, watch, and utilize power; being born into a pureblood family of ancient descent almost guaranteed that. It was a constant struggle – even among your friends – to get the largest slice of the pie, so to speak.

Draco was lucky enough to have been born into a family that already possessed the wealth and strength that many others envied. As influential and as powerful as his friends' families were, Draco knew that it was his that currently dominated among their circles. His father practically ruled the Ministry, the Minister himself a puppet underneath his family's thumb. His pedigree was spotless and his family, despite their Dark tendencies, was held in high esteem. His family possessed three chairs in the Wizengamot and maintained foreign connections that some would die to have. Their monetary wealth was unmatched in Britain. It was a large responsibility, being the heir to so much. But Draco had been preparing since birth and he welcomed the challenge.

One of his first lessons as a child had been the crucial and all-important lecture of the thing that dominated wizarding families like his: power. Not wealth, not influence, not authority.

Power. Magical power.

Because with that single component, the Malfoys believed that everything else followed. If one had enough magical power to stun and stand above his fellow wizards, wealth, influence, and authority were so much easier to reach. If one had no power, one had none of that. All Draco had to do was look at the Squibs in society to see how true that was.

Draco had been confident that he was one of the most powerful students – if not  _the_  most powerful student – in his year. Not only was he one of the few who had actually received a magical education before entering Hogwarts, but he also had the blood of some the greatest witches and wizards of old flowing through his veins.

Then he had opened the door to that one compartment on the Hogwarts Express and his hopes had been almost instantaneously blown away.

At first, he hadn't noticed it. He only had eyes for his target, Harry Potter, at the time. His father had encouraged him to get to the celebrity before anybody else could but he had been disappointed to find that a Weasley, of all people, had sunken his claws into Potter first. Having Harry Potter on his side would have been great and the amount of things he could do with such an attention-getter would have been enormous. The loss of such an opportunity caused him to act more than a little petulant and it had taken a lot of control not to behave like he had just lost a favorite toy. He had once overheard somebody say that he did that too much.

Yet Draco had also been the tiniest bit relieved. His parents might have insisted that Harry Potter had only destroyed the Dark Lord that night by mere fluke, but a small part of him had always wondered whether the celebrity actually had enough power to kill the most powerful wizard alive. Then he had actually met Harry Potter and all of his childish worries had dissipated. Potter was strong – very strong, perhaps stronger than Draco – but he wasn't  _that_  strong. It was nowhere near as bad as Draco had imagined it.

But Vladimir Dracula was another story entirely. The moment he laid eyes upon Dracula, Draco had known that he was outclassed. He had been taught to notice and see power and he couldn't help but think that even those without such training should have been able to notice. Dracula had hardly been overflowing with excess magic but he exuded a sense of otherworldliness that set Draco's nerves on edge. It had been  _unnatural_.

Then they had gotten off on the wrong foot and Draco had felt a sense of bitterness and irritation ever since. It was incredibly rude and cruel of the Romanian student to mention his parents' incest (how did a foreign boy know that anyway?) but it had hardly been any crueler than Draco's own comment had been. Draco had stormed away from the compartment that time not because he had been insulted beyond comprehension but he because he had needed some time to think.

He had set off for Hogwarts with all of the different students in mind, allies and enemies alike. He had predicted Potter would be against him but his father had always insisted that to try first was better than not having tried at all and miss a chance. He had predicted the new Weasley spawn to be present and he had predicted the presence of the well-rumored and magically weak heir to the Longbottom household. He had known about his fellow Slytherins, of course, for they had grown up together and he had anticipated several others. What he hadn't prepared for was the single but heavyweight unknown variable in the form of a Romanian boy his age.

And that frustrated Draco. He didn't know quite what to make of Vladimir Dracula and, apparently, neither did his Housemates.

They were situated in a secluded circle of their own amongst the many groups in the Common Room. All of them had noticed long ago that Dracula almost never returned to the dungeons before curfew and they often took advantage of his absence.

"He can do what only a grown, trained, and powerful wizard should be able to do," Draco finally said, cutting off the conversation that had been aimlessly drifting among them. "I think we've established that."

"But  _how_?" Pansy asked petulantly.

"It hardly matters. What matters is that he can do it," Theo replied.

"I agree," Blaise intervened. "Wouldn't it be more beneficial to create some ties with him first? That would be the best way to learn how he does it."

Draco snorted. "You expect him to trust us after everything we've done for him since the beginning of the school year?"

Pansy crossed her arms and slunk into her seat. "We haven't done anything  _bad_  to him."

"We haven't done much of anything at all. He probably doesn't trust us and I certainly don't trust him. Who has ever heard of the Dracula family, anyway? He might come from Romania but I don't think he's telling the truth when he says he is wealthy," Theo ground out grimly.

"Oh, I think he is telling he truth," Blaise brushed aside. " _That_  is obvious enough. You just have to look at the way he dresses and the way he behaves. I know you've all noticed how he has more than enough clothes that our mothers would approve of and he isn't exactly lost when he's faced with the utensils in the Great Hall either. The Gryffindors don't know which fork to even start with but at least Dracula knows that much."

Draco nodded and sighed once before dusting himself off and standing up. "We are not going to get anywhere right now." And it was true. At this rate, they would just degrade into mere handlers of gossip. "We just don't know enough about him. Just keep an eye out and maybe we will find out something worthwhile."

~0~

Ingrid had never thought the day would come when she would actually miss her brother's presence. He had always been a bothersome thing and the blockade to nearly everything she desired in life. He was father's favorite, after all. She couldn't remember a day after Vlad had been born that their father ever looked at her for longer than a minute.

When her younger sibling had been shipped off to that hack of a school, she had been optimistic, hopeful even. Surely everything had been some sort of scam; it wouldn't have been the first her father had fallen into. It pleased her to think that she would finally be alone with her father and perhaps have the chance to change his mind. With Vlad out of the picture for nearly the entire year, the Count could finally focus more on his daughter.

But that had been a sweet hope and nothing more. It was almost as if Vlad had been born to occupy their father's mind; the Count  _still_  thought of nothing but his only son. Ingrid's father had taken weeks to stop absently calling Vlad like he usually did when he had something to share and even longer to stop glancing at the doorways for a small, familiar figure. When Vlad had sent them a letter, the Count had spent nearly ten days trying to figure how to best  _begin_  the reply and never mentioned how her brother had asked about his sister's well-being. The only reason why Ingrid knew Vlad had asked about her was because she had come a hairsbreadth away from burning the parchment just to eliminate her father's obsession with it and had unwillingly read the words in the process.

It was sickening to her and so much worse than actually having her brother there. At least when Vlad was home, Ingrid had somebody to snark at, somebody to talk to or insult. Now all she had for company was a disgusting, mortal servant, a wholly insensitive nut for a father, and a talking stuffed hellhound.

Ingrid was slowly going insane and she had no idea how to fix it. How was she supposed to find something to occupy her when the nearest settlement outside of their castle was a Breather village and the nearest vampire was probably too far for her to find?

There came a point she almost considered going down into the village just to talk to somebody – anybody. Ingrid was halfway down their hill before she realized the stupidity of what she was doing and turned around.

How could she stoop so low? She was a vampire. A princess. She lived in a castle, had access to all sorts of luxuries that kings would have died for, and would gain unimaginable power in two years time upon her sixteenth birthday. She shouldn't be feeling the need to associate with  _food_.

A traitorous part of her mind began to wonder if this was how Vlad had felt before. He had tried so many times to sneak down into the village. Her brother had always said it was to make a friend and find somebody else to talk to for once and, for the life of her, she hadn't understood.

Perhaps he had been trapped too. Perhaps he had realized that maybe life in a castle could get restrictive.

But that was silly. She had every right to feel that way; father always ignored her. She was a  _girl_  and girls were good for only two things in her father's eyes: satisfying males and conceiving children. Vlad, on the other hand, got all of the attention and he was beloved as much as any vampire child could be loved; he was the heir to the Dracula name after all.

So for what reason did he try to escape?

~0~

The following few weeks of school finally found Vlad settling into a comfortable rhythm at Hogwarts. He woke up, ate breakfast while feeding Nox and checking his letters from home, went to classes, studied in the library until ten minutes before curfew, and went to bed. There were a few variations in between that might have concerned a very annoying poltergeist and abruptly moving stairs that deposited him elsewhere but overall, he had established a routine that suited him.

It was, at times, a rather lonely routine. But as much as Vlad wanted somebody to talk to, a friend, he could find nobody around him who would be willing. All of his dorm mates were cordial but pointedly aloof. The other First Year Slytherins were too busy trying to gain favor from the very same dorm mates who avoided him to even consider Vlad an option and the older Years were just completely out of the question. The Gryffindors disliked Slytherins on principle and the few whom Vlad had been hopeful for greeted him but largely avoided him as well. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs probably would have been very open to Vlad at one point, but by the time the young vampire had gathered the courage to approach them, some sort of standard had already developed.

Vladimir Dracula, it seemed, was off limits.

Vlad would have been lying if he said that didn't depress him. The only thing to console him, really, was the fact that nobody thought him  _strange._  The other students actually held a sort of respect for him because of his wandless ability and while that was something to be grateful for, such notoriety also set him further apart. People tended to avoid the few who stood out; they preferred to watch from afar as if Vlad was something to be cautious about.

It probably didn't help that Vlad was actually very good in class either. He understood the concepts very well and he passed his written tests with flying colors (something he tried to keep unnoticed). In Potions, he was the top student and the one person Professor Snape had yet to reprimand; even Draco had been corrected at one point or another. Such success set people off even further and the fact that he didn't have a wand in his hand multiplied that sense of awe even more.

When it came to practical application, however, he was slightly slower than the rest when grasping the spells.

A lot of it was due to the nature of his magic. Vlad had finally figured out that his magic required him to truly  _know_  what was occurring to fully complete the incantations. Charms came easier to him because they were still doing simple movements, something he could envision and understand completely. But when it came to Transfigurations, he had a much harder time because his mind didn't fully comprehend  _why_ and _how_ objects morphed. It was something that couldn't be seen, but something to be conceptually observed. Such a fact was one of the reasons why he needed to study and read so much of the textbooks and further. Other student his age might pass by just by virtue of saying the incantation right. But Vlad had to go deeper and see the mechanics of every single spell.

Still, he never failed to complete his in-class tasks because he always stayed ahead conceptually.

Vlad let out a deep breath and closed the text he had been reading for Astronomy. The library was more crowded nowadays with Ravenclaws and occasional Slytherin or Hufflepuff but he still occupied the select corner he had been using since the first day at Hogwarts.

A slight mewl drew his attention and he glanced down to see Nox clambering up. Vlad grinned and picked the feline up.

"I guess you're by best friend right now, huh?"

The cat blinked once. The "I know it" was written all over his face.

Vlad laughed a little and put Nox into his lap. "Look, I'll get you something to eat soon but I just need to finish this last passage." The feline shuffled in place and Vlad yelped a moment later when sharp pinpricks attacked his thighs. "Okay, okay! Bats, Nox. What's stuck in your fangs tonight? You're normally more patient than this."

The black feline slunk up on to the desk Vlad was working on and began to bite one of the many pieces of paper strewn about. Vlad grumbled and extracted the parchment from his familiar's mouth and crossly glared at Nox. "Really? Now you want to abuse my work too? You know I work hard on this stuff, right?"

The cat only swiped a paw at the parchment and moved to bite it again. The Slytherin student jerked the parchment out of reach and watched with a mixture of annoyance and amusement as his familiar fell to the floor. "See? That's what you get."

Nox only straightened himself with a huff and stalked off with his tail held high, forever the stubborn one. Vlad cracked a grin at the feline's antics before finally looking at the paper Nox had been targeting.

He almost groaned when he saw that it was his marked-up calendar and saw that today was Halloween. So that's what Nox had been trying to show him. Today was the day he had promised to actually go to supper on time. The Prefects of his House had not missed the fact that Vlad always showed up late and, at times, missed mealtimes entirely. They had told him that it was alright (so long as he wasn't caught doing whatever he was doing) but on holidays and more important nights, they expected him to arrive promptly and suitably presentable.

By blood and garlic, they were going to kill him. No wonder so many students had left the library early today.

Vlad quickly organized his things and crammed them into his book bag before dashing out into the hall. He prayed that he wouldn't run into Mr. Filch; he hated it when students ran in the hall. Mrs. Norris would be a far more desirable patrol to run into simply because she seemed to only give him a miffed glance before strolling on. Other students had told horror stories of how the cat would catch them and report to Filch but, for some reason, nothing ever happened to Vlad when he ran into her. Perhaps it was Nox. His familiar had probably found a feline friend in the universally hated form of Mrs. Norris.

Vlad cast a quick  _Tempus_  as he ran and muttered another thing about blood and garlic under his breath when he saw that he was fifteen minutes late. Who knew that time flew by when studying?

He was just passing by the halls leading up from the dungeons when he heard the first thump.

It was something Vlad passed off as another of Peeves' antics. The poltergeist loved creating bombs and setting them off. But as the thumps continued – each one louder than the last – Vlad began to realize that there was now way Peeves could have amassed  _that_  many bombs. And there wasn't the characteristic cackling nor the typical taunting that accompanied each of the poltergeist's escapades.

So if it wasn't Peeves, then…?

The wall just in front of Vlad exploded in a shower of bricks and mortar. He yelled in shock and stumbled on his robe as he threw up his hands in a fruitless attempt to ward off the heavy shards. Several pieces of the bricks caught his arms and Vlad lost his balance as a horrible pain suddenly assailed the side of his head. He blinked incoherently as his vision began to sport black splotches and he tripped on the shambles as he tried to escape. Vlad gagged and threw a hand over his mouth and nose when a sickening stench pervaded the air and his eyes watered at the acrid smell.

The sudden explosion had thrown Vlad off and he was almost too shocked to realize that a gigantic, hulking being now towered over him. The thing's skin had an unhealthy green tinge to it and enormous warts littered the surface. Its head was disproportionately small compared to its body and the only thing keeping it modest was a weathered loincloth around its hips. A single, large club was clenched in its fist and small eyes stared down at Vlad's form.

The only thing Vlad finally managed to think through his hazy mind was the fact that there was a  _troll_  in the school.

Then he was shakily scrambling to his feet and running for his life.

The troll seemed to take Vlad's desperate escape as some challenge for it began to follow him with a host of grunts and squeals that wasn't unlike that of an excited pig. Vlad was horrified to realize that one of the troll's strides was enough to cover thirty of his and the weapon it was holding recklessly smashed everything in its way. Remnants of the bits and pieces that the club destroyed showered the hall like rain and several times narrowly missed hitting Vlad. He winced as he realized that his head was pounding and he was dismayed to see that he had no hope of escape.

As he skidded around a corner, he could only hope that the troll was too dull to realize that there was an intersection. The beast's species was one of the dullest on earth and Vlad was hoping against hope that it took his turn as a magical disappearance.

Rounding the bend, Vlad only had time to register a familiar bundle of Slytherin robes and platinum blonde hair before smashing face-first into his Housemate.

"Merlin-!" Draco blurted as he lost his grip on the several books he was carrying and tumbled on to his back. "What in the name of…!"

The blonde didn't have time to continue before Vlad grabbed him and ran. Draco spluttered in indignation and yelled something about leaving his books behind but the young vampire disregarded it. When there was a full-grown mountain troll – for that was what Vlad recognized it to be – on your back, there was no time to pick up some textbooks and apologize for running into your classmate. Right now, Vlad was far more concerned with  _surviving._

The wall behind them disappeared in another blast and Draco finally cut off his angry monologue with a scream of "What in Merlin's bloody beard was that?"

They were passing into a set of hallways that Vlad was beginning to recognize as paths leading to the Great Hall. He was relieved for a moment because he realized that, this way, they would finally find help. But then he was struck with a realization and jerked their pathway abruptly away from the Great Hall despite Malfoy's protests.

"What are you doing, Dracula?" Draco yelled above the din of the troll's rampage behind them. "We could have found the professors back there!"

"No," Vlad panted back. He was beginning to tire and his head was pounding harder and harder by the moment. "There are other students there."

Draco gritted his teeth and shouted furiously, "Are you a bloody Gryffindor? Would you rather have us  _smashed into a bloody pulp_?"

Vlad didn't find the time to reply as the troll seemed to come to the brilliant conclusion of throwing its club to block their way. It came at them with a loud ruckus for it collided with several obstacles along the way and it was only thanks to that that Vlad reacted and pulled the both of them flush against the wall. It's wooden surface just barely brushed Vlad's sleeve as it sailed by and the two of them stood frozen.

Now an enormous club was blocking their way forward and a dangerous troll was blocking their way back.

Vlad watched in terror as the creature lumbered closer to them and the petrifying information that trolls enjoyed eating flesh – cooked or not – came to the forefront of his mind. His thoughts raced for options, whirled for some escape route, but nothing came to him. All of the magical classes they had taken so far only pertained to simple and mundane things – the sort of things that wouldn't help in a life or death situation.

A part of Vlad was frustrated and wondered if he was going to die here. He, who was born a vampire and magically strong enough to attend a wizarding school. It painted his helplessness in stark colors; never had he felt so helpless about his fate. Only once before had he felt like this and that was when he had realized that he was virtually destined to become an immortal, bloodsucking creature whether he wanted to or not.

Draco seemed just as terrified, if his trembling hand and clammy complexion meant anything. The Malfoy heir was thin-lipped and his eyes flitted back and forth between Vlad and the troll. Vlad frowned suddenly at that observation and narrowed his eyes. Draco seemed scared, yes, but there was also something else there…indecision?

Draco apparently made up his mind when the troll let loose something akin to a war cry and began to charge at them. He tore his arm away from Vlad's grip and whipped out his wand. He pointed it with shaking hands at the troll and hesitated for the briefest of moments before shouting, " _Everte Statum_!" The defensive spell shot itself directly at the beast's chest and smashed upon contact. It seemed to push the troll back for a moment and slowed its charge. But then it shook its head and began to dash ever faster.

Draco let out a small breath of disbelief before he pointed again and shouted, " _Immobulous_!" Again, the spell made contact and froze the troll in its tracks – literally – for a few seconds before it wore off.

"Mordred," Draco whispered to himself in despair. He cast a brief glance at Vlad once more before he seemed to steel himself. This time, his hands were steady as he cast, " _Expulso!_ "

For the brief, immobile moment that the spell shot across the distance, Vlad could almost  _taste_  how different that particular had been from the previous two. Something about the last one sent a shiver over his skin and a sense of familiarity tinged it, as if it was something he had felt before.

Then it hit the troll on the arm and its appendage burst into a bloody mess of sinew and shattered bone peeking through the muscle.

Almost the moment the spell had left Draco's wand, the blonde collapsed to the floor and Vlad only had a second to gape at what the spell had wrought before he forced himself to run to his classmate's side. As he gripped Draco's head and tilted it towards him, he was relieved to feel a pulse beneath his fingers at the wrist and even happier to see that the Malfoy had merely buckled under the exhaustion of casting a spell far above his abilities. The Exploding Spell was only taught to Fifth Years and even then, not very thoroughly. It was one of the incantations that was considered too Dark in nature to be taught and taxing on those who did not have the magical capability for it. Vlad looked at Draco with slight admiration and abruptly saw just how strong and talented this haughty and seemingly pampered Slytherin was.

A part of Vlad wondered if anybody else in their year could do the same thing Draco had just done.

The young vampire tore his gaze away from Draco's limp form as he heard a keening wail from the troll and realized with growing dread that as effective as the blonde's attack had been, it had been nothing more than a distraction. Now, the creature focused bloodshot and furious eyes upon them again and bared its rotted teeth in fierce determination to destroy whatever had dared to hurt it.

It came closer and closer in a prowl that showed it  _knew_  its prey couldn't escape. Vlad couldn't leave Draco now, not after the blonde had done everything he had. And even if he did abandon Draco, Vlad would probably only get as far as the end of the hallway before he was caught and killed.

An uncontrollable sense of panic began to overwhelm Vlad as the troll neared. Each thump of its heavy footfalls sent his heart rate higher and higher. His head was now a mess of pain and he was exhausted from his previous extended run. He didn't know any advanced attack spells like Draco did and he couldn't see or hear anybody close by to turn to for help.

He was alone to face what could be the cause of his death.

The overpowering enormity of the situation made Vlad's breathing harsh and ragged and left him too shocked to even move. He was stuck with Draco's body in front of him. He wondered how the blonde's parents would take their child's death. He wondered how his  _own_  family would take his death.

The mere thought of dying, of losing his life was what made Vlad lose it. He had never really known how much he had wanted to live before, but now it was the one thing in the world he wanted above all else – even normalcy.

Vlad didn't really know what happened next. The troll had now come close enough to breathe upon the boys and for a split second, it made contact with Vlad's own pair of blue eyes. In that flash of time, Vlad felt an instinct urging him to keep that gaze and  _pull_  it in. He followed without hesitation and then he just felt and  _knew_  that he had the troll under his control.

"You will leave us alone," Vlad said slowly and clearly. "You will leave us and not harm us."

The creature stared a few seconds longer before dazedly walking straight past them, picking up its club, and continuing on its way as if Vlad and Draco no longer existed in its world. Vlad didn't dare breathe until the troll had disappeared around the corner. Only then and another eternity longer did he suck in a deep breath and bury and face in his hands to sob.

He had never known how  _scary_  death was.

Vlad cried and buried his hands into the folds of his robes. He had never known how horrible it was to be helpless, to just stand there like a bat in headlights. He hadn't been able to do a thing until the very end. Even Draco had managed to gather enough courage to stand and attack first. He was disgusted to realize that a part of him now understood why so many people wanted power. Power kept you from feeling that helplessness; power made it so that you couldn't be helpless.

He wiped his tears away after shoving away his thoughts and snapped his fingers once to levitate Draco's unconscious form. Vlad looked for a moment at the magic he had just done and turned away in bitterness. Fat lot of good the knowledge to levitate something had done him when facing the troll.

~0~

Somewhere along the way up to the Hospital Wing, Vlad ran into a rushed Professor Snape. The man had only taken one look at the Slytherins in front of him before curtly ordering Vlad to follow him with Draco.

The professor took them to his office and, without so much as a few questions here and there about where it hurt, healed the both of them with his supply of potions and healing knowledge. Vlad had been surprised to see the Potions Master so well versed in the healing arts but he didn't question it; the man had already saved them a trip to the Infirmary. After what he had just gone through, Vlad hadn't felt like dealing with a fussy Mediwitch and her endless questions about what had happened.

It almost seemed as if Professor Snape knew what Vlad wanted. As if he knew that sometimes, time was what was most necessary.

"Stay here," the man said sternly before leaving Vlad and Draco to themselves in his office.

It seemed a very long time that the young vampire sat curled in upon himself on a chair in front of the blazing fireplace. He only stared listlessly into the flames and occasionally glanced at Draco's silent form spread out on the couch. It was oddly peaceful and the panic he had experienced facing the troll slowly dissipated into a dull memory that settled like lead in his mind.

Looking back, Vlad had been rather pathetic in the face of danger. Sure, maybe he had finally managed to hypnotize but that meant another step closer to his vampirism. More than ever, Vlad craved normalcy. How, out of all the students in the entire school, had he ended up one of the people to get tangled up in things like this? It wasn't as if he asked to be thrown into reality-defying situations.

"What are you glaring for, Dracula?"

Vlad jumped a little in his seat and whirled around to stare at Draco. "You're awake?"

"Obviously." The blonde smirked at the question before grimacing. "Ugh. I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs."

"Me too."

Draco gave Vlad a cursory look before nodding rather thoughtfully. "I would guess so considering how you look like you've had your head bashed in and your arms look like you've dragged them through a thorn bush."

Vlad couldn't help the slight laugh that the comment pulled from him and he smiled. "Hey, I'm not the one who fainted in the middle of all that."

"At least I wasn't the one standing like a scared girl and I had every right to faint, thank you. That last spell was very advanced, if I must say so myself." A silly grin was painted on Draco's face too for a moment before it melted away into a groan. The Malfoy heir threw his head back and sighed. "Merlin, it must've done a number on my head too. I wouldn't be talking like this if it hadn't."

Vlad shrugged. "I sort of…like it."

"You just don't get it do you?" Draco asked with a wry grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Are you sure the Hat meant to put you in Slytherin?"

"Maybe if I actually knew what you were talking about, I would be able to 'get it'."

Draco only sighed again before shaking his head. "Never mind." Then he looked up again, this time with hardened eyes. "But you won't mention a thing about that last spell I did, right?"

Vlad blinked. "Why not? It practically saved us."

"Flattering, Dracula. But we both know that was a spell I wasn't supposed to know and if the other professors figured out that I'm casting Dark spells in my First Year already, I might as well paint a sign on my forehead declaring myself a target."

Vlad was silent for a moment. He was wondering whether keeping that piece of knowledge from the professors would be wise. Draco had pretty much just said so himself; that sort of spell casting was not allowed and probably for good reason. Yet that Dark spell had saved them and it had been used in self-defense. Surely it couldn't hurt to "forget" to mention it?

"Alright, I won't. But only if you tell me where you learned it."

Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise as if he hadn't been expecting that answer before nodding. "Maybe you are meant to be in Slytherin after all. We'll talk."

But they didn't get much further as Professor Snape returned in a billow of black robes, his face pinched in some sour distaste.

"Of course they would receive points for risking their lives. Just as loose as they were with his father," the professor mumbled to himself.

Draco seemed a little more daring than usual as he asked, "Excuse me, professor? Did you see some other students with that troll?"

The Potions Master turned to the Malfoy heir and didn't answer as he did a quick check-up over the boy's health. Only when nothing of importance came up did the professor reply, "Mr. Potter and his fan, Mr. Weasley, were found in the bathroom with Ms. Granger and an unconscious troll."

"That Mudblood?" Draco sneered in disdain.

"You will  _not_  use that word in front of me, Mr. Malfoy." The professor immediately hissed. "Do you understand?"

Draco seemed suitably chastened and actually embarrassed for once as he nodded.

"Yes, they had somehow all survived while luck had helped them defeat the creature. It appeared as if Mr. Weasley had rendered the troll incoherent by levitating the club above its head."

Vlad clenched his hands into fists. His sense of helplessness increased at that statement. Even Ron, who was not the brightest in their classes, had managed to compose himself in the middle of danger and actually make use of the spells he had learned. It seemed that a Levitation Charm would have been of some use after all.

"I will not mention how the two of you were inappropriately outside of the Great Hall during supper tonight," Professor Snape continued. "However, I expect the two of you to be completely  _spotless_  in your attendance and timetable now. There is a reason why we have the rules and curfews that we do. If I catch either of you in the wrong places at the wrong time again, I will not hesitate to hand you over to Mr. Filch."

In other words,  _don't_  get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Am I understood?"

Draco and Vlad could only wordlessly nod in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Till next time!


	7. The Time in Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

**Chapter 7: The Time in Between**

The Bloody Baron had never really found any reason to take interest in any one particular student before. They were small, tedious beings who were inexperienced in the ways of life and more often than not remained that way until the day they graduated. In the Baron's opinion, wizards and witches only got interesting when they had a good fifty years or so in their pockets.

Even Tom Riddle had not been particularly eye-catching during his time at Hogwarts. Yes, the boy had been brilliant and the most interesting specimen by far. But when the child's obsession with death had become painfully clear, the Baron had decided to abandon any attempts at getting to know him. If Headmaster Dippet hadn't been clever enough to notice the growing Dark Lord, then the man had just been a fool. It was hardly the Baron's business whether the Wizarding world was condemned because professors hadn't been capable of containing or noticing a corrupt child for seven years straight.

Perhaps it was just the aspect that the students were  _living._  They had no grasp on the life after and they had no grasp of the possibility of one day ending up like him. They had concocted their own, ridiculous tales about his death; his bloody appearance provided more than enough for their voracious imaginations. What they didn't understand was that anybody was susceptible to a not-so-happy ending and they continued to live their lives in blissful ignorance day in and day it.

The only beings that the Baron had ever managed to find some entertainment in were the vampire children and perhaps the occasional werewolf. Only a few had ever attended Hogwarts during the time the Baron had haunted the castle; they were rare occurrences – the rarest – but they always managed to bring something  _new_.

It almost made the Baron laugh whenever one of the undead's offspring would attend. The witches and wizards of his time had been able to tell when a child was vampire or not but the art had been long forgotten. They had never really known much about such creatures and after a particularly long impasse between their two races, even less had been remembered over the years. They remembered the werewolves, of course; how could they not when every full moon the signs were more than obvious? But vampires were a different story. The fact that vampire spawn could walk among the living comfortably was something that amused the Baron, especially since it was harmless for the first five years.

The undead were always fun to watch; they had some ingrained penchant towards the Darker side of things. Every single one who had come through Hogwarts had been different – one even Sorted into Hufflepuff – but each shared the talent of mischief and destruction. After their sixteenth birthdays, that side of them would grow almost exponentially and the resulting chaos were some of the only things the Baron had left to look forward to in his afterlife.

Yet this side was what was so puzzling about the newest vampire on campus. Or, more specifically, the lack of it.

Vladimir was a vampire; there was no doubt about it. His heart beat and he had blood circulating. He was not-quite-deathly pale and his hair had not quite gained the midnight black that it would be later on in life. But all of those things had been expected. The one thing that hadn't been expected was that this particular vampire had an active  _conscience._

And as far as the Baron was concerned, vampires didn't have consciences. It just couldn't be biologically possible. One of the vampire students in the past had even outright told him so.

So why did this boy actually look sorry when he did something wrong? Why was he unfailingly polite no matter who he was talking to? Why had he not even stepped a single toe out of line on purpose yet? Why was he practically the epitome of a good, obedient student?

The enigma was intriguing.

"I don't know why you stare at me like that," Vladimir sighed, not even bothering to look up from his textbook this time. "It's not like I'm that interesting."

The Bloody Baron smiled. "What is wrong with being a little concerned about the well-being of a student in my House?"

"Nothing, if you hadn't been staring at me for the past few  _weeks_."

The ghost tutted. "Some would be flattered that I pay so much attention." He floated a little higher to gain a better view of what the vampire was reading and chuckled. "Ah, is the little leech learning how to seduce mortals to his whim?"

Vladimir flushed a brilliant pink and slammed  _The Keys to Hypnotism_ shut. "I-It's not like that."

"Of course it isn't."

"It isn't! I'm just reading it for – for fun!"

"In the middle of the night huddled under your bed sheets?"

And indeed, the boy was hiding within his drapes while his other Housemates slept around him. The Baron had noticed a long time ago that the child had picked up the vampire-instructing book but only recently had he realized that the boy carried it around like a dangerous bomb to be hidden and to be ashamed of. He never read it outside of the safety of his bed and had only begun to read it after the Halloween incident.

It was hardly a conspicuous book. The title might have seemed dubious, but no other student would automatically assume that the hypnotism instruction was specifically written for vampires. The practice had already been discovered in the wizarding world, albeit a rather archaic one when a much easier Imperious Curse could be used.

"I don't know what you want from me," Vladimir hissed under his breath. "But I would really, really appreciate it if you kept that little…tidbit quiet."

"That you're a vampire?"

"Shh!" the boy begged. "Please. I really don't want the others to know!"

"Why?" the Baron smiled. "Are you ashamed that you're a parasite?"

"Maybe I am ashamed!" the young Slytherin snapped. "Wait – and I'm  _not_  one yet! I'm still human! I still breathe and walk in the sun!"

Oh, the boy  _was_  disillusioned. And strange beyond doubt. The Baron had never met a vampire who  _hadn't_  wanted to be a vampire before. All the others had been proud of their species and had only kept quiet about it in order to avoid prejudice. They accepted that they would one day be true vampires, but this one actively denied it. The child actually thought he was human just because his body was temporarily doing the same functions as a living being.

But this could be one of a kind and the Baron was hardly one to discourage unique situations.

"If you say so."

"I do," Vladimir replied curtly. He opened his book again and turned his back to the ghost. "Now could you please leave me alone?"

The Baron actually contemplated it for a long moment before he settled himself on one of the bedposts and frankly said, "I don't think I will."

~0~

"You look a little tired," Draco said the next morning. "Did you have a bad night?"

Vlad wanted to moan and slam his face into his breakfast. Of course he hadn't had a good night's sleep. How could he when a ghost was harassing him? He hadn't expected the Bloody Baron, of all the undead, to be interested in him. But apparently, the ghost really had noticed that Vlad was vampire during the Welcoming Feast. It was a relief that the Baron hadn't gone and informed anybody else, but after Halloween, it seemed as if the ghost's personal addenda had consisted entirely of "bother Vlad as much as possible".

It wasn't like Vlad enjoyed reading the book either. He had never expected to even  _touch_  the thing despite his father's insistence that he study it. But after the troll's attack, something within Vlad had become desperate for some form of control and power to ensure that such a thing never happened again.

"Maybe," Vlad miserably replied to Draco's question.

The blonde scrutinized his dorm mate for another moment before shrugging and turning back to his conversation with the others.

The two of them had yet to consolidate their respective stories after Snape had entered in the middle of the conversation. There just hadn't seemed to be the right time to continue and neither of them seemed willing enough to restart the topic.

But the death-defying experience hadn't been an entire waste. Now Vlad was well aware of Draco's real abilities and Draco seemed more receptive to interacting with the new Romanian student. The blonde was hardly warm and welcoming but at least he now made eye contact and acknowledged Vlad's presence when they passed each other in the halls. For now, that was enough for the vampire; it was progress at least.

"Dracula?" Draco said as the students stood to move towards their first classes.

Vlad looked up in surprise (since when did Draco bother talking to him  _twice_  in the morning?). "Yes?"

"I need a word. It won't take long."

The request was strange but if Draco had gone out of his way to say so, Vlad decided that it might be worth listening to. He nodded curtly and the two of them separated themselves from the crowd. They settled into a small, hidden alcove just outside the Great Hall where it would be easiest to speak to themselves and split to their respective classes afterwards.

Immediately, Draco was all business. "Dracula, I'm sure you're busy with your own family this coming Christmas. But both my family and I are in your debt and we would be pleased to invite you to our Yuletide ball over the break. My parents especially; they are very eager to meet the person who saved their son's life."

The announcement was so unexpected Vlad almost dropped his jaw in surprise. "What?"

"Don't make this any harder than it already is," Draco sighed. "Trust me, this is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you. But now that I owe you a Life Debt –"

"Wait, I thought that didn't count. You saved my life beforehand when you tried to attack the troll."

" _Try_  is the key word there," Draco replied briskly. "I didn't actually stop the troll. I just deterred him and that doesn't exactly warrant a Life Debt. You, on the other hand, actually saved my life." He leveled his gaze to Vlad's. "I'm still wondering how you did that, by the way, but I suppose we will exchange stories when the time comes." A slight smile twisted his lips. "Yuletide, if you're free?"

This was the Malfoy family they were talking about. This would probably one of those parties that involved fancy, expensive clothes, decorations, and everything else that was even remotely involved. It was not even called a party for bat's sake. Draco had called it a  _ball_. And, garlic forbid, that meant  _dancing_ too. Considering the blonde's family, the very Minister himself might end up present along with every other influential family in the Wizarding world.

Hardly Vlad's cup of blood, but this was the very first time a friend had invited him over and probably the first time his father would approve and allow his attendance.

"Thank you," Vlad said with a smile he couldn't quite suppress. "Even if it is just out of gratitude, I'd be glad to accept your invitation."

"Your family is invited too, of course."

Well, that wouldn't do. Vlad was fairly sure his father would leap at the chance to test out magical blood and that wasn't something the young vampire was willing to risk. "Unfortunately, my father is pretty solitary. He doesn't like leaving Romania unless it's very urgent." And Draco had no idea Vlad had a sister, so there was no point in explaining Ingrid's "inability" to attend.

Vlad abruptly frowned just as they were about to split and he quickly asked, "Wait, is Christmas break coming up already?"

That smug smirk of superiority just had to show up on Draco's face. "Have you been buried under a rock all of this time, Dracula? The Gryffindors have only been talking about it for the past month. The break is coming up in a few weeks."

Vlad blinked in surprise. It had seemed like Halloween had happened just yesterday. He shook his head and began walking towards Defense Against the Dark Arts. He really did need to pay more attention to the days.

~0~

"A-and then i-it w-would b-be be-best to apply some Drag-Dragon bl-blood…"

Out of all his classes, Vlad had been surprised and disappointed to learn that Defense Against the Dark Arts was the poorest. He had been excited and eager to learn the subject; it was his main purpose for being here in the first place. If there was a way to avoid the Dark Arts – or anything relating to Darkness overall – he would take it gladly. But after a single day in the class, it had been more than obvious that their professor was unqualified. Half of the lesson, the man spent stuttering and fixing his sentences. Vlad found it far more beneficial to read the class textbook and he did just that whenever he attended the class. It was so bad, Vlad almost paid less attention than he did in History of Magic – and that was saying something.

Sitting alone in the middle of the class did little to alleviate his boredom. Vlad was normally an avid learner and preferred to not be distracted by the comments of his peers, but this was one of the classes that he wished somebody would be beside him to whisper to. But he brushed it off. Sometimes Nox would trail him inside and if his familiar wasn't present, he had his books to attend to.

He guiltily pulled out  _The Keys to Hypnotism_  as the professor continued his bland explanation of the many uses of Dragon's blood. Vlad was already ten chapters ahead of this one and he had completed most of his other homework as well. Perhaps he could finish the rest…but he was at a rather crucial point in his reading and Vlad just wanted to complete it. That was it. There was no way he was  _interested_  in what he as reading…

As he ran his eyes over the pages, he became uncomfortably aware of an oppressive, stifling presence in the room that he had become accustomed to sensing in the class. At first, Vlad had been alarmed; it felt too much like the Dark artifacts that he passed by at home. But as time passed and nobody was the wiser, he gradually categorized it as a figment of his imagination (that just happened to appear in the same classroom). It was something he couldn't quite describe. It just set his nerves on edge and he was always awkwardly reminded of its intensity whenever Professor Quirrell passed by.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was fairly sure that it was emanating from the professor himself at this point, but Vlad couldn't even tell what it was completely. There was no point in making a big deal out of it. The Headmaster was supposed to be the most powerful wizard aside from Voldemort himself; if the man had done nothing yet, then Vlad had no purpose worrying about it.

Not only did that set Vlad off in the room, but the constant presence of rows and rows of garlic strung from the ceiling made his skin bristle. The vegetables wouldn't hurt him if he did touch them or eat them, but Vlad was still averse to them. He ate them time and time again at home just to prove to himself and his father that he was still not a vampire yet, but he had always secretly despised the things. They tasted horrible – bordering on poisonous – and they made him want to vomit. It made Vlad sick to think about them, but it made him even sicker to think that it was thanks to his strong vampire heritage that caused his hatred of the things. So he endured it and openly claimed that he loved garlic.

And that wasn't even the worst part. Apparently, Professor Quirrell had had a run-in with a vampire during his time in Albania and that did little to settle Vlad's nerves. What had the man been expecting anyway, taking a trip to that country? Everybody knew that it was filled with nasties and the like. Several of Vlad's cousins apparently lived there and it was a well-known fact among the vampires and humans alike that Romania and Albania had a habit of attracting the less-than-savory type.

Considering the man's resulting obsession with the species, Vlad almost had no doubt that his professor recognized his family's name. Who didn't know the name Dracula in Albania?

"I-Interesting book y-you ha-have th-there."

Vlad jerked his head up to stare into the dark eyes of Professor Quirrell and he uneasily smiled. "Just a passing interest, professor."

Quirrell gave Vlad's novel a particularly long glance but eventually turned away and continued with his lecture.

Vlad had to struggle not to shiver and hunch in on himself. Somehow, that eerie presence in the room seemed to have increased during the span of their short exchange.

~0~

"Staying at the castle, Potter? Don't have a family to return to?" Vlad heard Draco tease in the courtyard.

The celebrity flushed and spat, "None of your business, Malfoy." He had his hand poised over the sign-up sheet for in-castle residents for the holidays. "Not everybody is as spoiled as you are."

"At least I won't be spending Yuletide alone, Potter."

"He won't be," Ron snarled from the side. "I'll be staying with him." Harry gave his friend a startled look before gratitude seemed to blossom on his face. It made Vlad sad to realize that Harry was so desperate for company; nobody looked that grateful unless they had reason to.

"That's expected," Draco sneered. "Your family is too poor to handle the whole litter home for celebrations."

At this point, Vlad had come level with Draco's group and he gently but briefly touched the blonde's shoulder as he passed. Draco glanced over at the contact and saw Vlad's disapproving gaze before huffing and saying, "Come on, guys. It's a waste of time speaking to lowlifes like Potter and his pet Weasel."

As the Slytherin group departed, Ron opened his mouth to get the last word in. But Vlad watched as Harry gripped his friend's arm and took them to a different topic of conversation entirely. It was a smart move, distracting the redhead. The young vampire quickly strolled by the two but he was stopped when a hand grasped his shoulder.

"Hey," Harry said tentatively, almost shyly. "Thanks for that. Earlier."

Vlad's exchange with Draco had meant to be surreptitious, and it had been considering none of the other Slytherins had quite picked up on it. Harry must have been perceptive enough to catch what had happened.

"It's nothing," Vlad replied and he continued walking.

The last he heard before reaching the other entranceway was Ron's perplexed voice asking, "What were you thanking  _him_  for?"

~0~

Nox yowled rather irritably and slunk deeper into the bed sheets. He kneaded the blankets with his claws and settled restlessly over and over until he finally yawned in satisfaction. The feline had not taken very well to the weather and Nox had not been afraid to show it.

"Come one," Vlad moaned. "Nox, come on. Don't settle down now. I need that space to pack my things."

The cat just blinked owlishly in his master's direction before promptly turning away.

"Really?" Vlad sighed but left his familiar to lounge. His messenger had been working a little overtime lately with the deliveries; his father had been sending letter after letter insisting that his son come home for the holidays. They never celebrated the Christmas season – for what reason did a vampire have to celebrate mortal cheer? – but his father had apparently remembered Vlad's time off. It was almost funny how his father continuously sent reminders as if his son would forget to come home.

It was almost a comforting thought, returning. Vlad would have never thought he would see the day that he would nearly look forward to going back to his family's castle. It was ancient, dusty, and impervious to sunshine but it was home. Still, Vlad would have liked it if his father bothered to clean once in a while. The place was still a damp, dark environment that Vlad believed suited the dead better than the living.

Oh, right. His father  _was_  dead – in a manner of speaking.

"We're going back home," Vlad said with a slight grin. "Excited?"

Nox only yowled in irritation.

"Alright, alright. Take your nap. As if your fifteen hours before this hadn't been enough."

That satisfied expression on his familiar's face said it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some important tidbits weaved in there, but this was really just as the title said: the time in between. I wasn't going to detail EVERYTHING that happened during the year; you guys can pretty much infer that the classes and studying and everything else are going on the entire time. It wouldn't be much of a story if I just spoke about Vlad's routine day in and day out, right?
> 
> Anyways, I just thought that a transition would do well. It would be weird if one moment I was at Halloween and the next I'm at Christmas already. It would make it seem like I prefer holidays or something :P
> 
> For those of you who think that there was no way Draco would have just complied to Vlad's disapproval, just remember that he IS in life debt and that is quite a heavy thing in the Wizarding world. Not only that, but I think that somebody who saved your life kind of warrants SOME degree of respect. So Draco now respects Vlad to some degree and actually bothers to take his opinion into consideration. Note that he doesn't necessarily hold his friends in that same regard. Some of his friends he does respect but the respect somebody gets from getting their life saved is sort of different from day-to-day respect that one develops for a comrade.
> 
> I hope I made sense there. But I have a nasty feeling I just rambled.
> 
> Till next time!


	8. Christmas Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

**Chapter 8: Christmas Party**

When Vlad stepped off the Hogwarts Express and on to Platform 9¾, his father was already waiting and eagerly searching the bustling crowd for him. The moment Vlad's foot touched the cement floor, the Count twisted his head in his son's direction and caught sight of him before happily began to motion his son over. Vlad grinned at the sight; his father looked far more like an excited puppy rather than a threatening predator in the moment.

The Count was dressed in his customary crimson and black, no extra layers to keep out the freezing weather. It seemed a little strange in the midst of a crowd of bundled up witches and wizards. But at the moment, Vlad could have cared less. Time away had, apparently, improved his perception of his father's typical strangeness. He glanced around the Count but saw no sign of his sister lingering about; apparently, she had elected not to come again.

"Is that your father?" Draco asked as he pulled his trunk down the train steps, coming up behind Vlad. "Considering what you've said about him and his love of remaining to himself, I would have thought him to turn out a little more…"

"Composed?" Vlad supplied with amusement. "He usually is but that doesn't mean he's a statue."

Draco gave the young vampire a considering glance before shrugging and moving to catch up with his friends. As Vlad watched the blonde wander off, he pulled his own trunk – lightened with a charm of course – over to where his father was waiting. He hadn't considered it before, but he had speaking a lot more to the blonde lately. At least enough for exchanges like the one previous to become customary.

"Oh, Vladdy! It had been so long since I've seen you!"

"It's only been four months, Dad," Vlad grinned. The taste of Romanian on his tongue again was nice after a few months of English. "But it's good to see you too."

"I bet you've learned lots of new things, new spells. I can't wait for you to show me!"

Vlad held out his trunk for his father to hold for the flit back and he laughed a little. "Dad, I haven't learned that much yet. Just a few small things to start off with." It was strange to actually be conversing with his father and  _not_ be arguing over something; it was probably the first time in years that they had something in common to talk about.

"Still, far better than nothing," the Count mused before gripping his son's shoulder and flitting them both back to their castle. This time, it was even less of an uncomfortable experience for Vlad, but he still wobbled slightly upon their arrival. It seemed it was an acquired taste of travel.

"Master Vlad!" Renfield exclaimed as father and son appeared to materialize out of nowhere in the middle of the castle. "So good to see you again! I've prepared some food for you, specially made!"

Vlad tried not to wince as their mortal servant pulled out a tray of writhing worms dipped in who-knew-what. He had no idea how a human could stand to eat something like that and  _not_  suffer from digestive problems. "Uh…thanks Renfield but I ate a little before coming. Maybe later." It was a good thing he had actually done just that. Vlad had figured Renfield would pull something like this again.

The slightly dejected expression the man sported bit a little at Vlad's conscience but he decided that a little damage was better than a stomachache later. He had become accustomed to refusing Renfield's cooking after so many years of doing so already and one more rejection couldn't hurt. Their servant, indeed, just shrugged it off (glad to have the food for himself most likely) and reached down to pick up Vlad's trunk to carry up to the young vampire's room.

"Where's Ingrid?" Vlad asked, glancing about. "Is she alright? You never wrote about her in the letters."

"Oh, forget about her," the Count said absently. "Now tell me, what have you learned? Better yet, show me!"

Vlad shook his head, much to his father's disappointment. "It's really not much, Dad. And it's really not a big deal yet. Maybe later on when I actually know enough to show but I'll practice over the break. That should be enough, right?"

The Count obviously didn't agree but the cold-cut tone of his sister's voice interrupted whatever the elder vampire was about to say.

"Back already, Vlad? Did you actually learn anything useful at that hoax of a school?"

Ah, there was the first reminder of why Vlad had wanted to get out of this castle so badly a few months ago. He had forgotten how cutting his sister had become lately and she seemed to have become all the worse during her stay alone with their father.

Vlad ignored her question and instead goaded, "Glad to have me back?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes and turned around to return to her room. "As if, Breather-lover. I was hoping you wouldn't come back; now you're just taking up more of my space."

"Calm down, children, calm down," the Count impatiently said. "Ingrid, you should be glad to see your brother back. He is, after all, at least learning something useful while all you do is stand around and  _breathe_  all day."

Ingrid let out a frustrated shriek at her father's remark and disappeared from the room as quickly as she had come. Vlad frowned at that immediate reaction and eyed his father from the corner of his eyes. Apparently, Ingrid's stay at home alone with their father  _hadn't_  been a very good one. She had never behaved so crossly so quickly before Vlad had left. The observation disturbed Vlad a little and a twinge of regret suddenly turned his homecoming sour.

As if sensing his master's unhappiness, Nox butted his head against Vlad's leg and purred affectionately.

Vlad grinned a little at that and rolled his eyes. "You have no right to suddenly act cute and cuddly after your moping the last few days. It's just as cold here as it was at school."

The feline just disregarded the comment and abruptly scrabbled up Vlad's body using his claws as hooks. The young vampire yelped at the prickling sensation and scowled as Nox settled himself across his master's shoulders with a lounging yawn.

"I see you like my gift," the Count commented proudly.

Vlad had to admit that, yes, he did like his familiar very much. "He's been really helpful with the letters and all."

"Of course, of course. Only the best for my son and heir." The elder vampire ran a hand through his black tresses and turned towards the hall leading to his coffin-room. "It's wonderful to have you back, Vladdy. But I am a little tired. It is still daytime after all."

Vlad shrugged. "Glad to be back, I suppose. Go sleep, Dad. I'll see you tonight."

And with that, the Count flitted out of the room, leaving Vlad alone in the room.

As soon as his father was gone, the young vampire sighed and ran his gaze over the castle. Memory really had painted things better than they were. Vlad had forgotten just  _how_  dreary this place was and just being back abruptly reminded him of the eleven years he had spent here day in and day out. Before, he had actually considered this castle a cage of sorts because he was so rarely allowed outside. Things were slightly different now, now that he was going to spend the majority of his time at Hogwarts. But Vlad still grimaced at the memories – welcoming and painful at the same time.

Nox nudged his neck a little and kneaded Vlad's shirt as if asking what on earth he was just standing here, doing nothing but staring. Vlad snapped out of his reminiscing and stroked the feline's head, earning another purr.

On his way up to his room, Vlad paused at his sister's door and wondered if what he was about to do was a wise move or not. She probably wouldn't welcome him, considering how she had greeted him earlier. But something told him that going in regardless was needed. He tried to imagine what it would have been like if their situations were reversed and shivered. Given, he had probably wanted to get out far more than Ingrid, but still.

The moment Vlad pushed open the door, a book came flying through the air to smack him squarely on the face. He shouted at the sudden onslaught and groaned, rubbing his face and wondering how long it would take for a bruise to form.

"Aw…did that hurt?" Ingrid smirked from her bed. Nox hissed at the comment but that only served to widen the vampiress' grin. "Look, even your pathetic excuse for a cat has to defend you now."

Vlad scowled but refrained from retorting; that was what she wanted. He had learned over the years that Ingrid often said the things she did because she wanted a certain reaction. Clearly, she was trying to push him away.

"I just wanted to say hello."

"We've lived together for eleven years, Vlad," Ingrid deadpanned. "I think I've seen your face more than I've ever wanted to."

Bats, she really did make this difficult. "I was wondering how things were at home while I was gone – that's all."

"Two words: Get out."

"Come on, Ingrid –"

"Vlad, I'm going to give you till five before I throw something else at you."

So much for greetings. Vlad reluctantly complied and began to turn around with Nox still hissing over his shoulder. Just as he was closing the door, he heard his sister's grudging voice say, "Oh, get back in here."

Vlad gave a hopeful look back into the room.

"Do you want me to kick you out again?"

Vlad just gave her a brilliant smile and quickly crossed the room to clamber into bed beside her. He snuggled up close to her then smiled a little wider at the familiar scent of ashwood. For as long as he could remember, Ingrid had always smelled like that and when he was younger, he had always associated that scent with some upcoming "playtime" with his elder sister. Now things were different but it was still good to remember.

"Ew, gross. I don't need you smearing your Breather love all over me."

"You love it," Vlad grinned back.

They remained in place like that, silent and oddly comfortable in each other's presence like they hadn't been in a long time. Those months apart had done the exact opposite of separating them; it seemed as if they were now more acutely aware of each other than they had been before when seeing one another had been too much the norm.

"You know how boring it is to be alone in a house with Dad, Renfield and your stuffed dog?"

Vlad grimaced in sympathy. "I can imagine." Then, "Hey! Zoltan is great company!"

"He's stuffed, Vlad."

"Doesn't mean you should ignore what he has to say."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "I think I'm regretting allowing you to stay already." She glanced slightly to the right of Vlad's head and frowned. "Your cat needs to be tamed or something. It's creepy."

Vlad looked at Nox and saw that he was staring rather intently and almost warily at his sister, as if he was looking at something to be cautious about. The feline was tense and barely moving a muscle.

"Nox, what's wrong?"

The feline blinked once before turning to look at Vlad. Then he shook his head as settled his head into the crook of his master's neck.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Vlad said a little helplessly. "He's normally not like that."

"The thing never liked me anyway," Ingrid said, her lips pursed.

"Maybe it's because you call him an 'it', Ingrid. He has a name."

His sister turned away bitterly and suddenly Vlad wanted to bit his own tongue. Of course she didn't like Nox. He had been a gift from their father – a gift that she knew the Count never would have gotten her or would ever get her. It was incredibly tactless of Vlad to pursue the subject like that.

In an effort to repair the damage, Vlad hastily asked, "So what did you do to keep yourself from getting bored?"

There was an air of disinterest about Ingrid now, as if she was trying to just go through the movements of conversation. "Nothing, really. I might have taken up writing dark poetry."

Vlad gave her a long, disbelieving look. "Really?"

"No, you idiot. I study for the Blood Test. I'm taking it in a few months."

Vlad immediately regretted asking. The Blood Test was a written test testing a young vampire's knowledge of vampiric law and protocol to ensure that they Turned with the proper knowledge. Vlad had every intention of failing it when it came to his turn to take it because failing it meant less of a chance of becoming too strong a vampire. But he knew it was his sister's every determination to pass with the highest score possible.

"You should go unpack," Ingrid finally said as the discomfort between them increased. "I don't want you in here any longer than you need to be."

This time, Vlad quietly left.

~0~

During his idle days at home, Vlad had figured out the many uses of utilizing magic in his everyday life. He no longer had to stand up to pick up things from afar; all he had to do was snap and summon it over. Small things like stirring his drink only required him to absently motion his hand in small circles over the cup to mix the liquid without he need of a utensil. When he studied, he had found a way to keep his books levitating around him and open to the page needed which made writing his essays far easier.

His father, ecstatic at the displays of magic, had taken the time to teach his son how to light candles with only a snap like he often did when brightening a room. Vlad had found it surprisingly easy to learn and soon, he was doing just that every time he need some flame to lighten the room. The Count had also tried to teach Vlad how to fly as well but the younger vampire had promptly refused. It was bad enough that he was lighting candles like a vampire; there was no way he was getting any closer than necessary.

At one point, the Count had asked whether Vlad had taken the time to read through  _The Keys to Hypnotism_  he had bought but Vlad had replied negatively. The truth was actually quite the opposite; he had finished the book before arriving home. Vlad had yet to actually try hypnotizing anybody else after the troll because he detested the idea but he was uncomfortably familiar with the workings of it now. That traitorous part of his mind told him that he would, actually, succeed brilliantly if he did try though.

A part of Vlad was screaming at him to stop – to stop learning this magic. It was making him even more abnormal. Ingrid was more normal than he was at this point considering she couldn't do any magic at all. But another, larger part kept him going. Magic was fascinating and if he just stuck to the wizard magics, he wouldn't exactly be going down the vampiric path. There were plenty of wizards who led completely normal lives in the human world. Magic was just a nice bonus on the side for them. Surely Vlad could do the same.

He was actually getting some headway on how to get out of becoming a vampire at sixteen. He had come across some books regarding vampires and plenty of books that spoke of how to avoid the Dark Magics.

Okay, maybe he hadn't. Maybe every single vampire book he had read so far was either completely inaccurate or simply ridiculous. Maybe every piece of advice he had read had been contradicted with knowledge he had learned as a child. Maybe he was getting nowhere at all so far regarding his escape from eternal life as a vampire.

But some stubborn part of Vlad told him that if he kept going, he would find something. He would. He had to. Where else would he find information valuable enough to help him escape? If he coludn't find anything with the wizards…

Vlad honestly tried not to think about what would happen if he didn't.

When Christmas was just two days away, Vlad finally came around to informing his father that one of his schoolmates had invited him over for a "small celebration." His father had eagerly given his consent and when Vlad had tentatively mentioned that some formal Wizarding attire just  _might_  be needed, he had immediately dragged his son back to  _Drusilla's and Tessa's_  to have an entire set of formal Wizarding robes tailored.

Vlad received a letter from Draco by regal eagle-owl (of course) the day before Yuletide. Inside was a formal invitation along with a pair of titanium cufflinks to act as gifts from the Malfoys and Portkeys to their estate the night of the ball. Needless to say, his father had been more than pleased to discover that Vlad had made acquaintances with a family wealthy enough to provide such luxurious gifts.

The night of, Vlad spent a grand total of two hours to figure out how to properly put on his formal attire and even longer to wrap the gift he had bought for the Malfoys. Getting them a gift had just seemed to make sense in Vlad's mind. After all, weren't they throwing a ridiculously expensive party and inviting him? It would have been just awkward going without something to give back despite what the Malfoys owed him simply because Vlad felt that they  _didn't_  owe him anything; he had done the only possible thing facing the troll and that had been that.

When the clock chimed seven thirty, his father flitted up to his room with a broad grin on his face. "Ready to go, Vladdy?"

Vlad grinned lopsidedly. "You tell me." He hoped he had put everything on right. He knew how to put on formal attire for vampire occasions but Wizard robes had actually turned out to be – impossibly – more complicated.

The mere fact that Vlad had asked his father for advice made the Count smile in excitement. It had taken too long, in the elder vampire's opinion, for such a thing to occur. Never in their years as father and son had Vlad asked for clothing advice before.

"It suits you," the Count said. "Only the best for –"

"– for your son and heir, I know, Dad," Vlad completed. He was just glad that Ingrid hadn't been there to hear the saying for the umpteenth time. "What time do you want me home?"

The Count gave his son a scandalized look. "You  _want_  me to give you a time restriction?"

"You don't want to give me one?"

"Of course not, Vladdy. Why, I would only give you one for you to break it and come home much later. Stay as long as you like and wreak havoc!"

By his father's ecstatic smile, Vlad could figure that the elder vampire thought he had just delivered the best news of the night. It just made the younger vampire slightly sad at yet another reminder that they were far from a normal family. Normal parents gave curfews. Only vampire parents wanted their children to stay out until dawn broke.

"I'll see you, Dad," Vlad replied curtly and a little detachedly. He felt slightly guilty at his father's crestfallen expression but he looked away and pressed a finger to the cufflinks at his wrist.

" _Crăciun_."

~0~

Nobody had ever told Vlad that travel by Portkey was worse than flitting. At least when flitting, you stayed upright while moving a million miles an hour. A Portkey spun you around as if you were in some twisted permanent game of merry-go-round while moving at a million miles an hour. The only thing that kept Vlad from falling on his face from dizziness upon arriving was his previous experiences in flitting with his father. He had learned to keep his eyes closed at the arrival point and to take a few breaths before finally orienting himself.

It was a good thing too; the Portkey had delivered him right at the entranceway of the grand staircase leading down to the ballroom where everybody below would have been able to see his blunder.

Vlad couldn't help but stare for a few moments at how elegantly and affluently the entire room appeared. The color scheme consisted of darker colors, a sort of mossy green interlaced with accents of platinum and the occasional gold. The stairs and various buttresses were made of pure marble and the dance floor was polished to a gleaming sparkle. A large but not overly audacious chandelier glittered lowly with flickering flames and various tables laden with delicacies hid themselves among the shadows beneath the second floor.

It certainly didn't look like the typical Christmas celebrations Vlad often saw the people down at the local village back in Transylvania had. The only thing that really signified it to be in any way connected to the holiday were the enchanted snowflakes that fell lazily and unnoticeably onto the ballroom below and the icicles that decorated the overhanging.

But decoration mattered little to Vlad. The only thing he was actually concerned about now was the fact that the crier was still extending his hand for the invitation dictating his title and the upcoming danger of tripping down the stairs and falling on his face in front of hundreds of undoubtedly influential witches and wizards. He almost wished that he had brought his father along just for this. If he had, the Count would be the one dealing with the public introduction and Vlad would have been allowed to just simply enter the ball quietly without any fanfare. He was the only one of his family here to represent and therefore he was required to step down the stairs upon the crier's declaration for all to see.

It was at times like this that Vlad was grudgingly grateful for his father's tuition on "all things proper for such nobility like themselves." He placed his invitation with only a slight flush in his cheeks to betray his embarrassment and managed to make his way down to the main floor upon the crier's saying, "Vladimir Dracula, heir to the Dracula House and name!"

It took a few minutes for Vlad to stop feeling self-conscious and just a few minutes more before a small tap upon his arm drew his attention.

"Good to see you made it without falling on your face," Draco greeted.

Vlad gaped at the comment and then scowled. "You made the Portkey drop me off at the top of the stairs on purpose. What if I had tripped or something? That was the first time I'd traveled by Portkey, you know."

Draco gave him a strange look. "Really? Maybe I did put the Portkey's destination there on purpose but I thought you'd have traveled that way before. I thought for sure you had if you didn't have a Floo Network in your house."

Oh, travel by Portkey must be one of those things that all wealthy wizards or witches did as children. Vlad certainly couldn't explain that his family consisted of vampires and therefore had no need for Portkeys. He quickly shrugged and said, "It's never been needed before." Then he scowled again. "But you  _did_  do that on purpose."

"I just  _suggested_  it to my parents, Dracula." Obviously already bored with the topic, Draco asked, "So how do you like it?"

"Considering I've been here for about ten minutes? It's pretty nice. I like your home."

The Malfoy heir raised an eyebrow. "Is that really the best you can come up with?"

Vlad rolled his eyes. "Says the one who made my Portkey trigger 'Christmas' in Romanian. Even I could have come up with something more original."

"Again, it was my parents who actually constructed the final product."

Vlad grinned a little and wondered if this was what it felt like to have a normal conversation with a normal person his age. He never would have imagined some of his first with Draco Malfoy of all people. The blonde was a right prat at the beginning but hey, maybe saving the guy's life was all it took to bring out the decency in him.

"Come on," Draco motioned. "We shouldn't be just standing around. My parents would probably be angry if I didn't bring you over to introduce you to them."

"Wait, you want me to meet them  _now_?"

"When else are you going to meet them?" the blonde asked in exasperation. "When the party's over?"

Vlad had actually been hoping for never. It was uncomfortable enough that they had felt obligated to provide him with an invitation and gifts but now they wanted to formally meet him as if this was some occasion to warrant such a thing. The only time vampire parents met was in passing during festivities or when their children were going to  _marry_.

Draco led Vlad around the dance floor where couples were swaying to the music from the live ensemble and the young vampire absently hoped that dancing wouldn't be something he was expected to do. He was fairly sure vampire dances were distinctly different from the typical wizard dances.

When they pulled up, Draco's parents were in the middle of a light conversation with another couple. Vlad was struck by how vastly contrasting the two pairs were; one blonde with almost identical, stormy gray eyes and another with dark hair and equally dark eyes. The Malfoys stood and carried themselves like the many noble vampires Vlad had met in his life, exuding confidence and a general conviction concerning their superiority. It irked Vlad a little bit, their exceedingly elitist mindset, but he set it aside for now for the sake of creating a decent first impression.

"Mother, Father," Draco intervened. "I am sorry to interrupt your conversation but you told me that you wanted to meet Vladimir Dracula as soon as possible."

"Indeed," Draco's mother smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Vladimir. My name is Narcissa and I am forever in your favor for rescuing my son." There was a slight sincerity beneath that perfectly constructed expression of welcome.

"I must say the same," Draco's father said in a far more controlled and grave tone.

Vlad was momentarily struck with the horrible realization that he wasn't quite sure what wizards normally did in situations like this. Was he supposed to extend a hand? Was he supposed to introduce himself even though they already knew his name? He ended up falling back on what he had been taught growing up and instead bowed stiffly at the waist and replying, "It is nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me here. It is very lovely." He decided to follow Draco's judgment on his bland vocabulary regarding the ball; he just hoped "lovely" was enough to please his parents.

"Oh, you are the child who rescued young Draco," mused the woman the Malfoys had been speaking to. "You are a very polite young man." She smiled at him, the same perfect expression of welcome, and said, "My name is Vesta Zabini and this is Artro Rincewind." Vlad glanced at the man she had on her arm and noted that he hadn't been introduced as the husband. So they weren't married – interesting.

He too gave Ms. Zabini the same greeting before he was relieved to hear the Malfoy patriarch dismiss them to "allow them time to themselves."

"I wouldn't look so happy," Draco said with a slight smirk as they drew away. "That is just my father's way of saying he'll meet up with you again for a longer conversation."

Vlad grimaced at the thought. "Um…that's great."

But Draco was already on a different line of thought. "So what would you like to do for the rest of the night?"

Vlad was a little curious as to why the blonde was sticking to him for the night. It was clear that he wasn't going to just leave Vlad alone to fend for himself. While Vlad was glad for the attention, he was also a little confused because he hadn't expected Draco to go to such lengths even with the Life Debt hanging over his head.

"What about Theo, Blaise, and the rest?" Vlad mentioned. "Aren't they around?"

Draco gave him a considering look, probably wondering why Vlad would want to spend time around the very same people who had been ignoring him for months. They still hadn't spoken to the young vampire very much. After the troll incident, it had only been Draco who had taken the effort to speak with the Romanian student.

"They're in a different room," Draco merely said. And then they were exiting the ballroom, leaving the main entourage behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has to be the most pathetic title I have written to date...and that's saying something considering my paltry skill of naming my chapters. Because honestly, only a portion of this was about the Christmas party and even then it's only the beginning of it (the core of it will be next chapter). Haha...well, it's like one in the morning so I guess I'll just let it go.
> 
> Anyways I got a little carried away with Vlad's homecoming. I had only intended it to be brief-ish but ended up putting some Vlad and Ingrid sibling fluff in there. Even then it wasn't really that fluffy...more awkward than anything else. :P
> 
> Ended up being another transitional chapter, really. Well, interesting stuff pops up next chapter (unless I get carried away with the small details again)!
> 
> Till next time!
> 
> PS I sort of used Google Translate for the Romanian word for Christmas. I don't know if it's actually accurate (considering how inaccurate Translate can be sometimes...I tried it for Spanish once and it came out completely weird). So forgive me if it's completely off.


	9. The Mirror of Ssen Krad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

** Chapter 9: The Mirror of Ssen Krad **

Narcissa Malfoy watched as her son walked away with the Dracula boy beside him. It had been a quick introduction, nothing more. But she thanked Merlin that the boy who had saved her son's life hadn't been a complete disgrace. True, she had known beforehand that Vladimir was a Slytherin, powerful, and top of his classes but from the way Draco had previously described him in letters home, she had anticipated a much less cultured specimen.

"Darling, would you please get me a drink?" Vesta smiled sweetly up at her latest victim. The poor man. He certainly seemed well bred – and wealthy of course. But then again, the Black Widow never chose anybody of lesser status than she.

Not that many of the women in their circles minded what Vesta Zabini practiced. It was, perhaps, slightly distasteful at times but it was the woman's method of achieving wealth and power. And all of them knew that such a goal  _was_  worth killing for.

After Artro Rincewind had gone off to appease his partner, Vesta neatly turned to the Malfoy heads and smirked. "He's such a dear. I haven't had a polite one in a while." Then her amused expression turned pensive as she considered the two before her. "Was that the First Year Romanian student?"

"Indeed," Lucius replied curtly.

"Ah…Blaise  _has_  mentioned him once or twice. Talented, I hear. And I have looked into his family's background per my son's request."

It was difficult for Narcissa to keep her curiosity in check. She wished to ask, but she knew Vesta would reveal what she had found without too much prompting. The two of them were close enough and Vesta's ability for attaining information was the only reason why Narcissa had even revealed what had transpired during Halloween. Nobody else knew for Draco had kept from informing his friends about the incident and Lucius had insisted that the entire situation remain behind curtains for now. It was a trade of information; Vesta now knew who had the ability to save the Malfoy heir from a troll and Narcissa would soon know what there was to know about the Dracula child.

The beautiful Italian woman pursed her lips into a slightly amused lilt when Narcissa did not push. "I have found little. But enough to know that the boy was not lying when he told my son that his family is wealthy."

That was rare. Vesta had quite the arsenal of information at her fingertips considering the amount of people she had in her debt. Several older generations of witches sniffed at her methods of seducing the knowledge that she desired or stored for later use but even they knew that Vesta Zabini was one of the people to speak to should they want the little facts that few were privy to. Even Lucius was not open to as wide a range of secrets for, as influential as he was, even he could not reach or entangle himself in all manners of people like Vesta could. It was rare for the woman to come up empty-handed.

"Interesting boy, that Vladimir Dracula," Vesta murmured with a slight smile.

~0~

Vlad was starting to think that electing to spend the rest of night surrounded by Draco's friends was not such a good idea. He had blurted it out in the spur of the moment when the blonde had asked what to do next and that had been the first to come to mind. He had felt guilty for keeping Draco from his normal group of acquaintances. After all, who would want to babysit a newcomer like him for a whole celebration?

But the more Vlad thought about it, the more he realized that doing this just might have been the worst decision possible. Sure, Draco could now see his regular friends, but with Vlad in the way, what were they going to do? He had noticed more than once how oddly silent and off-topic things got when he was around. The only reason Draco had even begun to speak to him normally was due to a life-and-death situation. And as much as Vlad wanted friends in his life, he wasn't going to face another troll just to win another of the group's sympathies.

"Here we are," Draco finally said after they had crossed two long corridors. "My parents usually prefer that all of us spend time out in the main hall but they understand that sometimes we need some time away. So this is where we usually go."

Vlad eyed the large double doors that no doubt lead into a smaller but still majestic venue. He took a slight breath and managed a grin before saying, "That's awfully nice of them."

"Hardly," Draco shrugged. "According to my parents, children are very…restless when they have nothing to do. Most of us will have to stay in the hall when we get older but for now, people won't miss us."

As the Malfoy heir swiftly opened the doors, Vlad was mollified to see that the room was actually much smaller and cozier than what he had imagined – almost reminiscent of the Slytherin dorms – but that did little to comfort him once he saw the several pairs of eyes swinging in his direction simultaneously. All of them – Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Goyle, Crabbe, and another girl Vlad barely recognized – were dressed in fine dresses and robes. The very air of the room almost reeked of privilege and affluence and Vlad found it a little strange to see the lot of them outside of classes. They didn't seem startled to see Draco; they had probably been expecting him for some time. But when all of their eyes settled upon Vlad, a collective flash of surprise flitted across their expressions. Clearly, they hadn't been expecting him to be here.

The girl Vlad could not quite name had blonde tresses neatly and elegantly curled just a little longer than shoulder-length and her electric blue eyes scanned him in a slightly different version of appraisal from the rest. She hadn't been there when he had conversed with the group their first night at Hogwarts and the few classes she shared with Vlad always had her at the opposite end of the room.

Vlad blamed his uncontrollable mouth when he blurted into the silence, "Hello."

Everybody seemed to take a collective blink before a slight snicker had Vlad whirling around in surprise. It was rare to hear Draco express anything greater than sardonic amusement and the lighthearted and sincere laugh coming from the Malfoy heir's mouth made Vlad want to gape.

"Dear Merlin," Draco finally grinned. "Sometimes I do wonder how you landed here."

"Here" could mean a multitude of things. "Here" could mean this immediate room. "Here" could mean at this particular party. "Here" could mean being in Slytherin. Which one Draco was referring to, Vlad didn't really know but he was gratified to hear that it hadn't been necessarily said with malice.

The slight guffaw on Draco's part had turned out to be a rather brilliant move. Looking back, Vlad realized that even that action hadn't been outside of the Malfoy's calculations. Perhaps it had been done on purpose; perhaps it hadn't been done on purpose. Either way, Draco's apparent ease with the Slytherin oddity caused the others to relax slightly. If the Malfoy heir wasn't worrying about Vlad in his home, then the rest of them didn't have much to worry about as well.

"Draco, I never knew you were so mean to guests," the unknown girl scolded. Then she turned to Vlad and offered a reconciliatory smile. "It is nice to meet you. My name is Daphne Greengrass."

Pansy quickly cut in before Vlad could reply in kind. "Oh, Draco! We were so  _bored_ waiting for you here! Did you really take all that time to bring…him here?"

Well,  _somebody_  clearly didn't approve of Vlad. Not that it was truly a surprise to the young vampire. If anything, he had expected a much harsher greeting. The mere fact that the rest of the group had yet to say anything against him was relief enough. Or perhaps they were courteous enough to realize that Draco had invited Vlad for a reason and had enough decor to restrain themselves.

"I'm sure," Draco muttered back. He glanced at Vlad and then briskly motioned to an open chair. "Why don't you take a seat? We are probably going to be here for the rest of night."

As Vlad seated himself where indicated, Draco himself settled in a two-person couch beside Blaise. Looking at the Italian boy reminded Vlad of the other woman he had met when greeting Draco's parents and he curiously commented, "I think I met your mother, Blaise."

"You did," Draco supplied. He glanced over at the Italian and shrugged. "Your mother just happened to be there, Blaise."

A wry touch of amusement flitted across Blaise's face. "Was she courteous?"

Something about that comment made the rest of the occupants in the room smile knowingly and Draco merely replied, "She was nice enough."

Theo whistled softly. "So she liked him."

Nobody commented but something about that piece of information had weighed rather heavily in the air. As if it was important. As far as Vlad was concerned, it hadn't really meant much but he hardly knew enough about the Zabini matriarch to pass judgment.

The uncomfortable air died down after Blaise began another topic and Vlad allowed himself to just listen. He had tried being a part of the conversation before and he figured that it would probably be best if he just remained in the background for now. It felt almost comfortable as time went on and Vlad allowed his eyes to wander the room, roaming the furniture and the ornate architecture. It wasn't particularly fascinating; Vlad was used to such things. But it passed the time and it was almost a miracle within itself that he managed to sit so securely amongst his fellow Slytherins.

Draco must have picked up on Vlad's disconnect from the conversation after some time had passed and, being the well trained host, asked, "Vlad, would you like to visit my family's treasury?"

The young vampire blinked at the question before he haltingly asked, "Your treasury?" Wasn't that supposed to be a rather private thing – for Malfoy eyes only?

"We've all seen it," Pansy whined.

"Hush," Daphne scolded her year mate. "He is Draco's guest and if he wants to see it, then we will accompany him."

"I wouldn't want to be any trouble," Vlad hastily said. "I am fine here."

"My parents would want me to show it to you," Draco insisted. "It isn't much. Just some trophies here and there."

Ah…so that was what he had meant when he had said "treasury." Vlad had misunderstood for a moment. To him, a treasury meant a vault of some sort holding, well, treasures. This, though, he understood well enough. His own father liked to display some of his own flashier possessions back in Transylvania. It was a good show of wealth – and power. A not-so-subtle way of showing off what you have.

"You know what," Draco finally said. "I'll summon the house elf. That way you won't think you're causing us too much trouble." And before Vlad could protest again, the Malfoy heir called out, "Dobby!"

The sudden  _crack!_  in the room made the young vampire jump in his seat before he was staring at possibly one of the strangest creatures he had yet to come across. And that was saying something considering he had once seen a troll.

The little thing was the furthest thing away from Vlad's idea of an elf as it could possibly be. Its skin was a wrinkly sort of brown, worn down from constant work. Large, bat-like ears hung on either side of its head and it wore a single, filthy pillowcase to protect its modesty. The only thing that seemed redeemable about the creature was its huge eyes, glistening with a bright curiosity and intelligence that Vlad would not have thought possible in a servant like itself.

Its pitiful state tugged at Vlad's conscience and he wanted nothing more than to stand up indignantly and shout at Draco, about how cruel this was. He had seen how some of the vampires back home had taken to keeping "pets" around and it disgusted him to see humans reduced to nothing more than walking meals. This situation was painfully similar. But Vlad knew better than to burst into a tirade now. He wanted to –  _so_ badly – but if he just let go of his thoughts in the middle of a party filled with Slytherins, there was little chance that he would leave unscathed.

"I want you to show Dracula, here, around the treasury." The blonde's eyes narrowed at the house elf and he hissed, "And  _only_  the treasury, got it? Then bring him back. I don't want my parents to think I just left the guest to the servant all night."

"Yes, Master Draco," the elf muttered, its eyes downcast. It then turned to Vlad and held out a hand. "Take Dobby's hand, sir. Dobby will show you."

The young vampire gave the room one last cursory look before gingerly gripping the tiny hand. He only had a moment again to prepare himself. And then they were gone.

This time, Vlad felt like he was being squeeze through a tube. It was as if he was being stretched like moldable candy before he came back together in an abrupt snap again. He stumbled as the world righted itself and let out a slight gasp at the sensation. He was getting really sick of all these methods of travel. Couldn't people just come up with something simple that didn't involve fiendishly fast speed, little objects that carried you away in a whirlwind, and some form of teleportation that squished you like toothpaste?

"Dobby is sorry, sir, that you feels uncomfortable, sir. But that is how all apparition feels, sir."

Vlad waved it off, smiling a little shakily at the little creature. "It's okay, Dobby. Thanks for explaining, though."

The elf seemed to freeze at the vampire's words and, for the briefest of moments, Vlad worried that he had said something wrong. Its eyes stared at the vampire's face for the longest time with incredulity, shock, and the tiniest bit of wonder etched on to its expression. Then the small being abruptly burst into tears, sobbing loudly into its hands.

"Oh, bats," Vlad muttered. "Dobby, Dobby! Look, I'm really sorry if I said something wrong. Dobby, can you hear me? I really didn't mean it! I'm sorry! Can you please stop crying?"

"You's a great w-wizard, Mr. Dracula, sir," the elf wailed. "N-no wizard has ever t-thanked Dobby before, sir!"

The admission made Vlad's heart shrink a little in sympathy as he knelt down to Dobby's height and tried to catch the elf's attention. "You don't have to start crying because of that, Dobby. It's not a big deal."

"Y-You's a great wizard, sir!"

It went back and forth like that for who-knew-how-long. After a while, Vlad began to wonder if elves had unlimited tear production and he felt a little frazzled by the entire thing. It was lucky that Draco's group had not come along because the vampire had not known that this would be the reaction if he thanked an elf. He just thought it was common courtesy, but now that he thought about it, it made sense that Dobby had never been thanked. Servants, slaves, were never thanked because it was their duty to serve. Nothing more, nothing less.

Finally, when Dobby had ceased crying, they began to walk down the corridor the elf had Apparated to and it was no small relief to Vlad that the little servant began to busy itself with explanation upon reaching a large set of double doors.

"This is the Malfoy treasury, sir. Lots and lots of Malfoys beings here. They stash lots of things, sir." Dobby turned and the doors seemed to open of their own accord, a wisp of magic brushing past Vlad's face.

As the elf led a sort of tour around the treasury, Vlad couldn't help but stare a little in awe. He had seen his fair share of such displays but the novelty of seeing a wizard's stock made his stomach flutter a little. There were different things, like enchanted cups or swords or necklaces that lined display cases. A great variety of objects ranging from worn books and delicate forks to grand statues and works of art filled the gigantic room. Vlad could feel the potent magic in the air and he shivered every time it caressed his skin. Vampire treasuries were actually very similar to those of wizards; the only difference was that vampires tended to hoard a few more decapitated heads than was strictly necessary.

After a time, Vlad began to tune out Dobby's voice and just absently followed the servant while looking about. It was fascinating to say the least, but this place  _was_  built for showing off. It was to be expected.

They were passing by a particularly elaborate painting of Draco's ancestor, Pavo Malfoy, when Vlad felt a sudden wave of particularly fierce magic. He froze in his steps as he shuddered from the sensation before slowly turning to stare at the painting again. The magic continued to pull, making him walk closer, making him feel compelled to do so. The moving painting itself spluttered as Vlad drew nearer, complaining about keeping a respectable distance or something along those lines, but the vampire's mind was engrossed in the pull. He vaguely felt something insistently tugging on his sleeve, and then a small surge of magic came from that slightly annoying distraction. Vlad easily batted it away with his own magic and the cries of "please don't, Dracula sir!" did not reach his ears.

Vlad placed his fingertips upon the frame of the painting and looked into the painting's eyes. "Show me what you keep hidden." The words fell unbidden from his lips, as if something else had pulled it from him.

"By Merlin's graciousness!" sniffed the aristocrat. "I daresay! The youth of the times are ludicrous! Speaking to a Malfoy like myself! Who are you, insolent child? Leave me in peace!"

"Show me what you keep hidden." It was like Vlad hadn't even heard the man's words.

"Morgana and Circe! Do you know no manners –"

" _Incendio_ ," Vlad murmured, as if he were whispering a beautiful secret rather than a burning spell. His eyes traced the flames with hazy fascination while they began to lick the corners of the painting.

"Mordred's…!" exclaimed the Malfoy patriarch. "By gods, boy, what are you doing? You can't just – no, no! Put out that fire before I burn, you fool!"

But the young vampire just watched as the flames drew closer and closer to the man, smiling a little when the figure's eyes widened in shock at his inability to leave the picture frame when he tried.

"Very well! Very well! Merlin, just put out that flame!"

The painting suddenly began to fade and then Vlad felt his grip on the painting's frame disappear as his hand sank in like there was nothing there. He wasted no time in stepping inside and banishing the flame spell behind him.

The hidden room was simple and bare, almost small enough to be considered a normal storage location. The only thing occupying the entire place was a single, large mirror that shone despite its tarnished framework. It was only when Vlad was finally standing in front of the mirror and looking at his reflection that he snapped out of his daze and full realization of what he had done slapped him.

"Oh, garlic," Vlad groaned. What was this? What had just happened? It had occurred in a mist; his mind had been so clouded. It seemed to make sense at the time, doing what he had done. But now he knew he was doing something completely against his host's wishes and he desperately hoped the manor would not turn against him. He had read about how wizards' homes were sentient to some extent thanks to how saturated they were with magic. The particularly old manors were dedicated to their master's wishes and Vlad had no doubt that the Malfoy home was exactly like that.

Not only that, but he had completely abandoned Dobby behind. If Draco or his parents or anybody got wind of this, the elf would be punished even more so than himself. He could only hope that Dobby had enough sense to just wait and keep quiet. Vlad was determined to leave right now and pretend whatever had happened hadn't happened.

_Leaving so soon?_

Vlad froze on the spot as the words lazily encompassed his mind. It was familiar somehow, just like that magic that had pulled him in. It was tantalizing and something that felt oddly nostalgic. There was a taste of sweet bitterness to it and a sort of darkness tinged its edges.

_Come on. I thought you were more intelligent than that._

"What?" Vlad whispered to empty air. "What are you…" He trailed off in horror as he watched his reflection in the mirror smile slowly and teasingly wave at him.

_Hello._

Vlad was numb as he whispered, "What is this? Is this some sort of spell?"

_Oh dear, you are rather dull, aren't you?_

"Stop it!" the young vampire snapped, his voice taut. "Stop doing that!"

_Doing what?_

"Talking in my head! You shouldn't be in there!" The mere fact that something was communicating to him mentally terrified him. He couldn't sense it within his mind and he had always been able to tell when somebody was intruding.

_Tut, tut…you're so rude._

"Get out of my head!"

_I pushed you to do it, you know. I wanted you to come here. I'm just that little helpful voice in the back of your consciousness when you need it._

"I could get in serious trouble for this! You aren't helping me! You just drew me in here…for what?"

_I thought it was time we had a little face-to-face. I saw the chance and I couldn't quite pass it up, you see. It's so boring just sitting on the sidelines for eleven years. And I couldn't wait another five, if you know what I mean._

What in the world was his reflection talking about? He had no idea what it was referring to and he didn't want to. "I don't really care. Just leave me alone. What have I done to you?"

_Just by existing, you've done everything to me. And even if I wanted to, I couldn't leave you._

The reflection slowly widened his smile into a vicious smirk and Vlad felt sick when fangs glistened against the upper lip. It was a horrible sight, seeing himself like a true vampire. "Stop it!" Vlad yelled, backing away. "This isn't real! Why are you doing this?" It was every nightmare he had ever had coming to life.

_We are going to be great, you know. Greater than everybody else. They will all sit at our feet like the filthy little bugs they are._

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Vlad choked out. "Please…just stop it!" He wanted to run far, far away and never come back but something was keeping him in place, freezing him. He shrieked when his reflection's eyes bled completely red and then darkened into a pitch black.

_You can't run from me. I will always be following you; I'll always be in your head. I always have been._

Vlad shook his head in denial. "No, you haven't! I've never seen you before! You're just some magic! It's this mirror!" He scanned it with his eyes again, and this time he noticed the words etched into the top.

_Ssen krad stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Yes, a very accurate description._

"I don't understand it!" Vlad shouted back. "Just, just leave me alone!"

This time, he could run. His desperation and fear pulled upon his magic and whatever enchantment had trapped him place broke. Vlad was fleeing, never once glancing back at the mirror. He passed through the painting and almost ran headfirst into Dobby's small form in his panic.

"Mister Dracula, sir!" the elf said in relief. "I was tellings you not to go in! Master would be very mad at Dobby if Master found out."

The young vampire blinked at the sudden normalcy of the situation now that he was away from that horrid mirror and his terrible reflection. It had been so quick, so sudden. It was surreal and something he hadn't been planning for at all when he had accepted Draco's invitation to his party. Vlad felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes as the image of his fanged, dark-eyed self and he hastily shoved away the thought before shakily gripping Dobby's shoulder. "Okay." He breathed out. "Okay, Dobby, can you keep quiet about this? Please?"

"Dobby will try his best, sir," the elf replied obediently. "Sir is very kind so Dobby will try his best. But if Master asks, sir, Dobby will have no choice…"

"It's okay. Just try not to have him ask, okay?"

The elf was silent, watching the young vampire's face for a moment before saying, "Okay, sir. Dobby will." It grasped Vlad's hand in a strong grip and for the briefest of moments, the vampire was grateful that there was just another living being holding him down in reality and reminding him that he was real and his reflection was not. "But Dobby thinks it's time to be goings back now. Master Draco would probably be wonderings where Dobby has been takings you, sir."

As they Apparated back to the other Slytherins, the faintest of whispers brushed Vlad's ears and he had to struggle not to turn around in terror.

_You can't run…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the relatively short chapter. Especially for so long away. I have actually been getting guilt pangs from neglecting all of my stories for so long. School just hates me. It really does. (Oh my gosh, Catcher in the Rye much?)
> 
> Anyway, I don't exactly have much to say except that I would have liked to have done the mirror dialogue better. But I tried fixing it multiple times to no avail. So this is the best I can get it for now.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing it though despite the slight block I had with it. :)
> 
> And yes, if you noticed, Vlad does still refer to Dobby as "it" rather than "him." He feels bad for Dobby, don't get me wrong. He feels just as horrified by it as Harry was in the books at first. But the difference is that Vlad had grown up seeing servitude and things like that. He sees it as part of the order of things...probably something he plans on changing or avoiding but it's the way he sees it all the same for now. He can't exactly do much about it considering he's at the manor because of an invitation. Then again, that doesn't mean he won't plan on something in the future when the Malfoys aren't around...
> 
> Till next time!


	10. Unease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own anything that could get me sued.

**Chapter 10: Unease**

Vlad didn't have time to catch his breath; Dobby had Apparated them immediately into the room where the others were still conversing. Whatever they had been speaking about ceased the moment the two of them appeared back into existence and, again, Vlad was grateful that his father had flitted with him in tow so many times. He didn't stumble upon landing and that at least gave him a few bonus points.

"I was beginning to wonder what the elf had done with you," Draco drawled, but he didn't pursue it. "Did you like it?"

No, no he hadn't. That crazy mirror the Malfoys owned was possibly the worst thing Vlad had ever encountered. It had been a different kind of dangerous from being surrounded from lethal vampires or being charged by a gigantic troll. No, the mirror had been much worse. Trolls and vampires at least were external. The mirror had brought up some of Vlad's greatest insecurities and inner fears.

Vlad managed a faint smile and replied, "It was very grand. Was that sword really Joan of Arc's?"

"Of course," Pansy sniffed from the side. "Draco's family wouldn't keep anything but the very best."

The huff of irritation coming from Daphne lightened Vlad's mood a little and he had to struggle not to grin at the sound. The witch must have been  _very_  frustrated to allow such an obvious sign to be noticed. She actually rolled her eyes the next minute when Pansy threw her a filthy glare and snipped, "I hope you know that  _you_  aren't engaged to Draco."

Vlad blinked at the comment. He hadn't known that wizards still continued that tradition. It was still prevalent amongst the vampires of course; blood was literally everything to them. But he had thought the Wizarding world was beyond that. From what he had read, most witches and wizards chose their partners. Apparently, pureblood families still lived in the medieval ages.

Good garlic, his father would absolutely  _love_  these people.

Pansy almost growled in her anger. "Well, I certainly don't understand why  _your_  sister is betrothed to Draco. She's a –"

"She's a what, Pansy?" Daphne asked sweetly, poisonously.

It was fairly clear that all of the boys in the room were more than uncomfortable. Girls…they were complete mysteries and absolute harpies when they wanted to be.

It was pure fortune that Mrs. Malfoy chose that exact moment to open the doors. If she hadn't, Vlad had a nasty feeling that the two girls in the room would have been at each other's throats. Figuratively and literally.

"I'm afraid I am going to have to break this up," the Malfoy matriarch smiled apologetically, as if she really was sorry for interrupting children's conversation. "The event is coming to a close and your parents are requesting your presence."

It was like a candle had been lit. One moment, his classmates were behaving exactly their age, decently comfortable and bantering amongst themselves. The next, their faces were as inscrutable as a group of eleven year olds could get them to be and a host of polite goodbyes and thank you's were suitably issued before the room was cleared of everybody except for Vlad, Draco, and Mrs. Malfoy.

It was uncomfortable being alone with the two Malfoys, but the young vampire smiled as best he could. "Thank you so much for allowing me to attend your event, ma'am," Vlad said, bowing slightly in the woman's direction. "It was a great experience." He tried not to allow the image of the mirror to creep up within in his mind.

"Oh, please, stay a bit longer," Narcissa Malfoy insisted. "I do hate to keep you longer than needed but my husband and I would love to get to know you better, if that is quite alright with you. You did save our Draco after all."

Vlad flitted his eyes over to his blonde housemate and had to resist the urge to glare ferociously. There was a smug grin on Draco's face that almost screamed, "Did you really think you could get away?"

It was difficult not to sigh; the mirror still weighed heavily upon his mind and all he wanted to do was get home and sleep. But his father hadn't set a curfew and Vlad couldn't say no without sounding ungrateful. He was fairly sure that the Malfoy family felt just as burdened. No prestigious wizarding family would bother with such an obvious newcomer like him if they didn't have to. Vlad was fairly sure that he wouldn't have even been allowed into the party itself if that hadn't been the case.

"I wouldn't mind at all," Vlad managed to reply. "I just don't want to bother you."

"Nonsense!" the matriarch waved away. "Come, it is much more comfortable to speak in the parlor."

Both Draco and Vlad obediently followed the elegant woman out of the room and around a few turns before settling into a much cozier room. The vampire was pleasantly surprised to see that it was even smaller than the one he had been in before and an even brighter fire settled the temperature at sleepily warm. It was the kind of room Vlad would imagine falling asleep in after reading a particularly long and satisfying book.

Draco's father was already waiting for them, muttering some instructions to another of the house elves before finally turning to them as the servant popped away.

"Ah, pleasure again, Mr. Dracula," the man greeted. "Please, settle down."

Vlad felt like that was all he had been doing all night considering the constant change of venue he was experiencing but he did what the patriarch suggested with nothing but a word of thanks. Mrs. Malfoy seated herself beside her husband as Draco pulled himself into one of the spare armchairs.

"Was the party suitable?"

Again with that question. Vlad was tempted to snap that it actually had been anything but suitable he only replied, "It was very remarkable. I have been to few gatherings as nicely planned."

That seemed to make Narcissa beam, but her husband merely seemed satisfied with the answer before continuing. "That is good news. I would hate to have to punish the house elves for making another mistake. You see, they made a mistake the last time we held an event and it takes quite a bit of trouble to make sure the things learn their lesson."

The man said the last comment like he was stating the weather and it made Vlad want to gag. No wonder Draco was such a prick at times. It was actually a miracle his classmate hadn't turned out much worse.

"Now, we have heard of your actions from Draco, but I think we would like to hear what happened during Halloween from your point of view. Our son didn't see exactly how you rescued him, you see, and we would love to hear how you managed to."

In other words, how on earth did you defeat something our trained-since-birth son couldn't? Vlad licked his lips in anxiety at the question; he couldn't exactly just come out and outright tell them that he had hypnotized the troll. The practice was archaic in the wizarding world from what Vlad had read, and even if he said so, he didn't know the incantation for it. Wizards hypnotized with a spell. They certainly didn't utilize eye contact like vampires could.

"It was really a blur, sir," Vlad answered with a careful, shy smile. "I was just desperate. I honestly had no idea what I was doing. Just one moment the troll was charging and I was panicking and then it was gone." Good garlic, that couldn't have gone any worse. It was perhaps the most ambiguous explanation that he could have possibly offered.

"Really, you remember nothing else?" There was skepticism in the Malfoy patriarch's tone, even if it was oh-so-very carefully filtered out with true curiosity.

"It was more accidental magic than anything, I think. Spontaneous. I certainly don't know enough magic to stop a troll."

"Well, we're just glad the two of you managed to escape without too much damage," Narcissa smiled gently. She pressed a hand to her husband's arm. "Why don't you tell us about what you think of England, dear. It must be a very different experience to be in a different country."

That was much easier to answer. "I really like it here, ma'am. The environment is beautiful and Hogwarts is very grand." A slight smile curled Vlad's lips up. "There is a lot more sun here than there is where I live."

"I wasn't aware that Romania had such gloomy weather," Mr. Malfoy commented offhandedly.

Vlad nodded. "There is a decent amount of sun. It's just where I live. The weather likes to…mirror the mood."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "Where  _do_  you live, dear?"

"Transylvania, ma'am." Vlad almost winced at his answer, sure that the people present would recognize the notoriously famous location. But he was only greeted with neutral expressions. Either the Malfoys were ridiculously good at masking their surprise or they really didn't know that Transylvania was literally the vampire capital of the world.

"It sounds familiar," Mr. Malfoy replied slowly. "I'm sure it will come back to me. But do tell us a little more of Hogwarts. Draco has told us what he thinks but your view would be valuable as well."

This was beginning to feel far more like an interrogation than anything else, but Vlad had really no reason not to reply. The questions so far had been innocent enough and they almost would have seemed harmless if they hadn't been coming from  _Draco's_  parents.

"I love magic, sir. I've been looking forward to learning it for a long time." Well, if the brief span of a few months since getting the letter qualified as a long time. "My favorite subject would have to be Transfigurations right now."

"That was my favorite subject as a student," Narcissa beamed. "Fascinating isn't it?"

Draco seemed to sense the upcoming gush of Transfiguration theories as he said, "Mother, Father, I think Vlad told me at the beginning of the party that his family wants him home a little early. I wouldn't want to keep him." The subtle glance the blonde threw Vlad's way threatened him to say otherwise.

Vlad was more than happy to follow Draco's lead. "I am very sorry. But my father does wish me to be home."

"No problem at all," Draco's mother said, standing up and encouraging the vampire to do the same. "I am very sorry for keeping you, though."

"Feel free to use your cufflinks again," Draco's father interjected, drawing closer to the Romanian boy. He tapped his cane against the platinum and Vlad felt a brief tingle of magic flutter at the contact. "I have made it a permanent Portkey to our home, but it will only activate if you receive permission first. I hope you understand."

"Of course," Vlad quickly said. "Thank you for the gift. It is very generous of you." At the mention of gifts, the vampire's eyes widened as he hastily plunged his hand into his robes to pull out his own gift. "I nearly forgot! I have brought you a gift as well, sir, for your family. It isn't much, just something I pulled from our family's treasury."

"Your treasury!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Oh, we couldn't accept that. It is your family's."

Vlad shook his head, extending the wrapped gift. "Please take it. You've let me into your home and you've been very kind to me. I want you to have it." He grinned a little. "My family won't miss it anyway. We are not too attached."

Draco's mother fussed, as was expected, but she eventually took the gift from Vlad's hands. When she did so, the vampire reached down to touch the Portkey but the quick and sudden grip on his forearm made him stop.

Vlad stared up into Mr. Malfoy's steely gray eyes and forced himself to ignore the reflex telling him to jerk away from the abrupt contact and to retaliate. As nice as the Malfoys seemed, something told Vlad that there was definitely more to them than met the eye. Nobody truly innocent kept a mirror like the one Vlad had run into hidden from view like stashed loot.

"Before you go, I would love to meet your family. They must be very…interesting people."

Vlad found that he couldn't quite reply. He blinked and nodded soundlessly before Draco's father finally extracted himself. Then, the vampire was gone with a single word to pull him back to Transylvania.

~0~

It was the best Christmas morning Harry Potter had ever had. He hadn't exactly had the best of experiences before, growing up and only being allowed to watch his cousin gorge upon his gifts. He had been absolutely ecstatic with the mere fact that Ron had woken him up this morning with the words, "Get up, Harry! There are  _presents_!"

Nobody had woken him up like that before, with such enthusiasm and free of acidic hatred Harry had grown up with.

He had been the amazed receiver of a flute from Hagrid, a 50 pence coin from the Dursleys, some fudge and Chocolate Frogs from Hermione, and a knitted jumper from Ron's mother. All of the presents, including the ones from his relatives, had Harry grinning like a loon and more grateful than ever that he had come to Hogwarts. The invisibility cloak from the anonymous sender had been something of a mystery but it was the one he kept close because it had been his father's.

Right when he thought he had finished unwrapping the last of them, Ron had poked him in the side with one last box in hand. Harry had been puzzled; who else did he know would send him a Christmas present? The box did not have a tag on it signifying the giver and only when he had meticulously taken off the gold and crimson covering did he catch the letter falling out of it. Harry had picked it up, intent upon reading the note first, but Ron's exclamation had caught his attention.

"Blimey!" The redhead had shouted. "You got a Quidditch kit!"

Harry had only blinked in confusion, only seeing a large leather box. "What?"

"That thing must have cost at least ten galleons!" There had been jealously somewhere in Ron's tone. "Bloody expensive. You can tell from the box that it is top grade."

"What's in it?"

"Well, it is a Quidditch kit. It has everything you need in there to maintain your broom and some other equipment you might need to protect yourself out in the game, mate."

Harry had run an admiring hand over the lid, but he had eventually turned back to the letter in his other hand, determined to see who had sent him such a pricey gift.

_Merry Christmas, Harry._

_I hope you're having a nice break. Figured that you could_

_use this in the future. I don't want to see you fall out there, especially_

_after you swallowed your first Snitch!_

_Best wishes,_

_Vlad_

The fact that the foreign student had even bothered to think of Harry while gift shopping had been astonishing. Harry had felt a little ashamed when he realized that he had completely forgotten about the Slytherin. He truly hadn't believed their association would mean anything after he had so obviously left the Romanian boy alone. It had touched Harry to see that Romanian student was still trying.

A few nights later, after Professor Dumbledore had finally convinced Harry to stop visiting the Mirror of Erised, he could not help but lie in bed and wonder what it could have been like to have Vlad as a friend.

~0~

There was something strange with the new boy, Vladimir. Severus had always been a man aware of his surroundings with a sharp instinct to match and something was telling him that the Romanian boy was more than just the top student in his year. That in itself was impressive enough with the entire Slytherin house already prepped with years of small tutelage and the Gryffindor girl waving her hand about for every question possible.

No, perhaps Severus was being paranoid, but he had been raised in a half-Muggle household and he had grown up finding solace in the books around him. Most of those books had been of Muggle origin before he had magical tomes available to him and one of said novels just happened to be Stoker's  _Dracula._

Severus didn't believe in coincidences, no matter how ridiculous. He had learned the hard way that nothing happened without some meaning behind it.

And for somebody who knew that such a book existed, you would have had to be stupid not to make the connection.

Severus had only ever read about vampires. Unlike werewolves or centaurs or even mermen, vampires had not been actively seen in decades. Not since Grindlewald's time and perhaps even before did any wizard actually have consistent contact with the species. Not even Dumbledore, the persuasive politician he could be, could coax the creatures out of their seclusion. Most books about vampires were hogwash nowadays and only some of the most ancient actually held some truth to them. The topic had never interested Severus merely because it had seemed so irrelevant at the time.

But now he had more than enough reason to ponder the question.

Still, the Potions Master felt a little silly going about and actually researching when there didn't seem to be any need to. Vladimir Dracula seemed the complete opposite of what one might consider being one of the undead with the exception of his name. The child wore ridiculously bright colors, for Merlin's sake, and spent more time hanging about in the sun than Severus thought healthy for even a normal boy. It was true Madam Pince, the librarian, often mentioned how much time the child spent studying, but Severus didn't miss the amount of time Vladimir also set aside to stroll outside. It almost seemed to be a conscious effort to do so every single day.

Vladimir smiled far too often to add to the list of oddities and he had a naturally chipper attitude Severus normally would have loved to crush if the boy's potions hadn't been unfailingly immaculate. What sort of vampire was cheerful, sun-happy, and prone to neon tastes in attire?

Yet the boy's name, Dracula, continued to linger in Severus's mind like a pestilence he couldn't quite eradicate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it didn't take me another month to update :) I actually have a VERY clear of what to write for the next few chapter as well so it might go just as fast...yay :D Or it might not. Depends on how generous my teachers are with their assignments this week.
> 
> Narcissa isn't that nice, just in case she came across that way. Remember, in the previous chapter she was going on and on about how power was essential and using any way to get it was a-okay. So if she seems all bubbly in this chapter, it's because that's what she thinks Vlad feels most comfortable with (which is actually kind of true) and the more comfortable Vlad is, the more willing to tell information he is.
> 
> I am planning on eventually including more of Harry in Vlad's school life. It just might be a bit slow considering their beginnings.
> 
> Till next time!


	11. Suspicions

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**And thank you so much to my reviewers! They mean a lot.**

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**Chapter 11: Suspicions**

The rest of Vlad's break had proven to be rather uneventful. Christmas had never been a family his family celebrated (for obvious reasons) and after the mirror incident, the young vampire had felt too drained to pursue the holiday like he normally did. Vlad hadn't missed the slightly curious glances he had received from the people inhabiting his household when not a word concerning the celebration passed his lips. In the past, he would have been constantly badgering his father about having some Christmas decorations complete with the tree and cheerful colors.

But nobody had verbally questioned his sudden change in attitude, so Christmas passed with little fanfare. The only thing to indicate that the day had been any different had been Draco's gift, an advanced book on Transfigurations, sent again by eagle owl.

When the day came for Vlad to return to school, his father saw him off alone again with his sister nowhere in sight. They flitted to the station and this time, his father gifted him with another pouch filled to the brim with Wizarding galleons. It made Vlad smile at the gesture; his father had never been one for eloquent displays of affection.

But the moment was brief and the whistle of the Hogwarts train pulled him away from the Count before could say any more parting words. Vlad departed with one last glance at his father's form before the train turned the corner.

Sighing a little, the young vampire pulled his magically lightened trunk behind him as he scoured the cabins for empty space. It wasn't a surprise to see that the majority of the compartments were full and it was only when he entered the last car of the train that he finally ran into some more familiar faces.

"Hello, Vlad," smiled Daphne as she pushed the last of her bags into the overhead storage. "Looking forward to another few months of Hogwarts?"

Vlad smiled back at her friendly question and readily replied, "I am. You?"

The Slytherin girl grimaced. "Mother and Father were not pleased with my progress in Charms."

"I think you're doing well in that class."

"That's sweet," Daphne said in a way that clearly meant she didn't believe him. "But my parents are going to hire extra tutors to teach me over the summer."

Vlad hesitated slightly before setting his resolve and suggesting, "I could help you if you want."

"Oh, that's very nice of you, Vlad, but –"

"Hey, Vlad." Draco's voice interrupted. The blonde seemed to have materialized out of thin air behind the vampire and Vlad jumped in surprise. "Sorry to interrupt, but Daphne was already asked to sit with a couple of the girls. Why don't you come with me?"

Daphne nodded her head in acquiesce. "It's true. Millicent asked me on the station."

Vlad had absolutely no idea who Millicent was except for the fact that she was probably one of the most threatening girls he had ever laid eyes on. She had the stature of a fairly well built girl and that normally indifferent expression on her face unnerved him. Even Draco's face twitched occasionally.

"Come on," Draco insisted, grabbing Vlad's arm and pulling him further down the aisle. When they came to the very last compartment in the entire train, the blonde stepped inside and motioned the vampire to follow.

Vlad obliged, putting away his luggage. When he finished, he turned back to the blonde with a slightly amused grin on his lips. "I never would have thought you'd be so eager to –"

The abrupt shutting of the compartment door cut off his words and his mouth snapped shut at the suddenly less-than-friendly expression on the Malfoy heir's face.

A terse silence hung between them before Draco began speaking with a deadly sort of calm in his tone. "You know, I never knew you took after Finnigan and his tendency for pyrotechnics."

Vlad literally felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn't wanted to talk about the mirror, hadn't wanted to even think about it. "What?"

"Don't act stupid. If you really hated my family so much, you might as well have told it to my face instead of setting my ancestor's painting on fire. And then going into one of our  _secret_  vaults."

Bats, he had to fix this and fix this now. He had completely forgotten that the painting could go and still reveal everything after what had happened. Vlad couldn't afford to make an enemy out of Draco again; they had just begun to settle on civil terms. "Look, Draco, I'm really sorry." At the blonde's skeptical expression, Vlad pressed, "No, I really mean it. Please, at least believe me in this. I know…I know what this looks like."

"It bloody looks like you decided to insult my family after we invited you to our home!"

"No, no it's not like that at all!" Vlad pleaded. "I know what I'm about to say sounds ridiculous, but you have to believe me!"

"Believe you after what you did?"

"Please, Draco, I just didn't know what I was doing. I didn't – no, I really mean it! I didn't want to do what I did. But something just pulled me. I couldn't help myself."

There was still an angry glint in the blonde's eyes, but something about that last statement had placated him a little. "You didn't mean to?"

"Yes! It…it was like some sort of spell was pulling me in…"

It was like somebody had flipped a switch. All at once, the terse offensives in Draco's body language dissipated into a large exhale of exasperation. They stood like that – Vlad too afraid to break the atmosphere and Draco just rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb – for a long time. Finally, just when Vlad was beginning to think that he would have fight his way out of the compartment, the Malfoy heir groaned and threw himself into of the seats. The movement threw Vlad off balance; not only had it been completely unexpected, but it had also been totally out of character for a normally composed Slytherin.

"Sit down, Dracula. I'm not going to bite."

Ironic, considering what Vlad was, that Draco had decided in that particular choice of words. But the young vampire obliged without another word, afraid that he would do something to spoil the blonde's suddenly charitable mood. By all rights, Draco still should have been furious.

"You saw the mirror, didn't you?" Draco sighed.

The mention of the mirror made the vampire hesitate, but he nodded with his lips pursed.

"Horrible, wasn't it? Father showed me the mirror when I was nine and I don't think I slept for weeks afterward."

Well, what was he supposed to say to that? I'm sorry your father is almost as bad as mine is? And considering Vlad's father was a six hundred year old vampire, that was pretty bad.

The blonde scowled at the look on Vlad's face. "I just wanted to make sure that you hadn't done it on purpose. I know what that mirror is like. It does pull you in and Father explained to me that it does it on purpose because it is always hungry for more fear and more desperation. You could say it's almost like a dementor of sorts."

Vlad only vaguely knew what a dementor was, but it didn't seem the right moment to ask further about it. "I really didn't do it on purpose, Draco."

"I know," the Malfoy heir sighed. "Which is why…why I didn't tell my parents when the painting told me first."

The silence that followed couldn't have portrayed Vlad's astonishment any more clearly.

"Don't get me wrong," Draco growled. "I didn't do it because we're friends or whatever. I was hoping that it would be enough to get me off of this life debt. But apparently it wasn't; I can still feel that slight tug on my magic telling me that I still owe you one." He ran a hand through his hair. "You're lucky that the painting told me first. I just happened to catch him sulking about and demanded he tell me what was making him wander; stupid thing never moves from the treasury if he can help it. I told it I would tell my parents and that I would have you punished for what you did."

Vlad couldn't help but grin a little at the annoyed tone coloring Draco's voice. "Well, I guess if we just don't wander down to your treasury again…"

The blonde punched him in the arm but the smallest of laughs escaped his lips. "You're such a pain. I swear…everything that can possibly go wrong around you goes wrong."

Something about the way Draco had said that, the way he had kept Vlad's little escapade a secret, made the vampire want to smile at the world and never stop smiling. Maybe they still weren't friends – Draco had just said a few moments ago that they weren't – but if the blonde was willing to keep something quiet from his parents, then that must mean something right?

~0~

It was almost as if winter break had never happened. Everything at Hogwarts slipped back into the old routine and soon, Vlad could easily file away the incident with the mirror. It sometimes cropped up in his dreams, but he would always wake up to Nox's shifting paws at just the right time. The voice he had heard in his head that night never whispered again and whatever worries he had hoarded before were filled with textbooks instead.

He was sitting in his usual haunt in the corner of the library one evening when a shuffling of robes and a clatter of books and excited whispers caught his attention. Normally he didn't allow such extraneous noises ruin his concentration, but he knew Harry's voice when he heard it. And if there was one thing he did know, it was that the Gryffindor never ventured in the library unless he had to.

Something urged him to put down his Potions essay and creep towards he direction of the voices. Nox watched him move away and the feline seemed to understand his master's intentions, remaining unerringly silent.

"I never thought to look in here!" Hermione's voice was whispering excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"You call that  _light_  reading?" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

Vlad leaned against the bookcase closest to the conversation and had to stifle a slight chuckle at Ron's comment. Looking slightly over the turn, he saw the trio settled into a rather conspicuous huddle, covering the majority of the tome they were reading from. Most would not have known it for what it was, but Vlad recognized the text immediately; he had been using it for research just a few nights before after all.

"You mean the Philosopher's Stone is here?" Ron's voice declared after a few moments of hushed whispering.

"Shh!" Hermione snapped.

They returned to their quiet conversation again but this time, Vlad was more than just slightly curious about what they were talking about. Now, he was interested enough to surreptitiously snap his fingers and invoke an eavesdropping charm – a relatively simple one he had conveniently found in a small book of pranks he had read just for the fun of it.

"…is why Dumbledore has a three-headed dog in the Third Floor?" came Harry's voice in Vlad's ears.

"It's obviously what the dog is guarding! Remember that trapdoor it was sitting on?" Hermione excitedly replied. "This is it! Nicholas Flamel had it in his vault when you were in Diagon Alley, Harry. You told us that just the other day! This has to be it!"

"The only things we don't know now are who wants it and why."

Whoa, whoa. Hold it. Why were they even wondering that? What made them think that somebody wanted to take the Philosopher's Stone? Perhaps having a gigantic dog guard it did mean something and having the floor banned from students was more than a little suspicious. But Vlad had never really put that much thought into it until now. There hadn't been really any reason to. He had been so caught up in his studies and everything else in between. Most students had been curious at first after the declaration Professor Dumbledore had announced the first night they were here, but even those few had forgotten about it when nothing eventful had happened.

What had made these three, specifically, keep such tight tabs on what was going on in the Third Floor?

And even if something had caught their attention, why were they still pursuing it? Wasn't a gigantic three-headed dog enough to keep them away?

Maybe it was a wizard thing. A vampire...well, that was a relatively unfair comparison. A vampire would just kick the dog out the way if they wanted whatever was being guarded enough – big or not.

"Maybe it's Snape," Ron hissed.

Vlad immediately tensed. What was Professor Snape doing in this conversation? Sure, the man had been inordinately unfair to the three Gryffindors, but that didn't mean the Slytherin Head of House wanted to take a priceless stone!

"You saw him at Halloween; he was limping. Like he had been bitten by a dog. What if he was the one to set the troll inside the castle as a distraction to get to the Stone?"

Vlad frowned and then grimaced. It was true; he had seen the Potions Master limping too but he had been too distraught to give much thought about it. But even if the man had been injured in the leg, that didn't automatically mean he was a thieving culprit. Professor Snape had helped Vlad and Draco that night and there had been sincere concern in the man's posture when he had seen them in the state they had been.

Vlad was dismayed when he heard Harry and Hermione agree that it might be a possibility and stood leaning slightly against the bookcase hiding him from view. They were wrong. Vlad knew they were. He had no particular love for Professor Snape, but the man was not who they thought he was.

He wasn't somebody who would sick a mountain troll in a castle of full of unprotected children.

But then came the real question: who was?

* * *

**Last chapter I forgot to address:** **Dobby and house elves in general DO snap their fingers like vampires to use their magic. But if you go back and read the chapter, I had Dobby never snap his fingers. I did that on purpose. Which is why Vlad didn't go and ask questions about it.**

**And just a heads up I'm sure you guys don't really need, but: assume that everything that happens in the Rowling book happens to the original characters (except for the characters I have interacting with Vlad a lot...which is just mainly Draco so far). The original events ARE happening to Harry and the gang. I just don't feel it necessary to articulate it again when this is a story focused on Vlad.**

**Lastly, Draco and Vlad are so silly when it comes to relationships sometimes. But no, for you slash lovers out there...this is most definitely NOT slash. At all. I just do not write romance at all because I feel that it takes away from the storyline. At most, I'm going to just mention it passing. A sentence or paragraph at most.**


	12. Culprit!

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**And thank you again to anybody who writes comments! I really appreciate it!**

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**Chapter 12: Culprit!**

It was with no small amount of glee among the Slytherins that the news of Professor Snape's role as referee for the next Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor spread like wildfire. Draco understood the hype very well; he too was a great fan of the sport. The Slytherin house had won the Cup for years in a row, but even the most arrogant of them were beginning to see that Gryffindor was beginning to become veritable competition.

Draco was loath to admit it, but a large part of the success amongst the lions was due to Harry Potter's ability. It was like swallowing a lemon whenever the Malfoy heir watched the wizarding world's celebrity fly. He would never admit as much aloud, but the Gryffindor had a natural affinity for broom flying. In fact, many of his House knew as much but it was a lot easier not to voice it. Leaving it to interpretation was the easiest way to deflect any deprecating truths. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, had been working their team to the ground. But Potter was a Seeker, and sometimes a talented Seeker was all you needed to win a game.

The only people in Slytherin House who weren't sore about the subject were several of the more indifferent girls and – you guessed it – Vlad.

The Romanian student barely twitched at the mention of Quidditch. It wasn't that much a surprise considering what had happened during their first flying class. The other boy had barely been able to stay on his broom and it had quickly proved to be the only class he struggled in. Draco felt petty admitting it, but he had been rather smug to discover that particular fact. So smug that he had quickly forgotten to rub the Remembrall Longbottom had dropped in the Gryffindor's face.

Draco sighed at the thought of Vlad. His classmate had proven to be far more useful than he had originally thought; the Life Debt the Malfoy heir now harbored was more than enough proof of that. It was odd but, for a Slytherin, Vlad was spontaneously laid back. Half of the time, Draco was trying to figure out whether Vlad behaved the way he did because he was trying to get something or simply because he  _wanted_  to be that open and considerate.

Ugh, considerate.

It had been a long time – if ever – since Draco had met such a person.

Yet, what had happened during the Christmas party had revealed another side to the Romanian. He wasn't as innocent as he appeared to be – or as ignorant. He clearly knew how to conduct himself within the higher circles when necessary, but he always left this subtle impression that behaving properly was something he actively avoided.

And then there was the mirror.

Oh, Draco hadn't let Vlad get off that easily on the train. It might have seemed like it considering how the other had relaxed afterward, but now the Malfoy heir had every reason to remain cautious and wary.

Draco couldn't deny that there was potential there. Plenty of it. His own father, so rarely impressed, commented for the briefest of milliseconds on it. And what Draco had told Vlad about the mirror hadn't even been the complete truth. Most people aren't called by the mirror at all. Only to those of Dark heritage or Dark themselves are ever enticed by the mirror's lull.

Which just made the picture Draco had of Vlad all the more ambiguous. The foreign student certainly did not seem the type to be in any way related to the Dark, but perhaps he had pulled a Sirius Black and gone against the current.

All Draco could continue to do was wait and watch at this point. It was far too early to make a clear decision and hadn't he always been taught to think carefully of his investments?

~0~

Vlad groaned as the crowd pushed him further into the Quidditch stands. He would have preferred to be anywhere else right now (most notably the library), but the collective insistence from the rest of the Slytherin House that  _all_ members attend the match to watch their Head of House humiliate the Gryffindors had finally gotten to him. It couldn't hurt to just watch, right? Perhaps he could manage to read a passage or two of the book he had smuggled along. He didn't have to pay attention; being there would suffice.

It was by pure coincidence that he ended up with Draco to his right; his left side pressed to the wooden side of the Slytherin stands separating them from the Gryffindor onlookers. It was hardly the most comfortable position but at least he was isolated enough to pull out his text. Normally, he would have been trying his hardest to blend in the crowd and pretend some interest in the sport. But something about the entire game rubbed him the wrong way. And it wasn't just the fact that brooms unsettled him (was that really a secure way to fly?). The position of Seeker, especially, bothered him because it was such an important role – eclipsing the rest. But who was he to question the rules of Quidditch when so many avid fans crowded the stands every time a match was scheduled?

Vlad read through the entire entrance and announcing of the teams, glancing up just once to watch Professor Snape stride on to the field. Things were beginning to look up when he found that he could read perfectly despite the loud clamor around him, but just as he was settling into a rhythm, something managed to smack him upside the head.

The young vampire yelped slightly at the surprise contact and instinctively looked towards the offender. Vlad almost wanted to groan when he saw that it was none other than Ron Weasley. The boy, in his excitement, had abruptly stood up, raising his arms as in an effort to cheer. And since he was sitting right against the wood separating the two Houses, just opposite of where Vlad was seated, he had accidentally whacked the Slytherin in the process.

Vlad's annoyance quickly dissipated when he realized that it had been pure mishap, but Draco was less willing to do so. When Ron had hit Vlad, the young vampire had jerked away and stumbled into the Malfoy heir's side, catching the blonde's attention.

"Oh, wow, sorry mate," Ron quickly said, slightly distracted by the beginning match.

"Sorry? Is that all you can say?" Draco sneered. "Keep your hands to yourself, Weasley, and maybe the rest of us won't have to deal with your stupidity."

Oh, garlic. Just leave it up to the Malfoy heir to escalate an honest mistake into a war.

Immediately, the redhead had his attention focused upon Draco. "Shut up, Malfoy. Maybe if you snakes kept to yourselves, I wouldn't have to watch myself."

"You really are a disgusting blood traitor. Look at you: a brute just like the rest of your filthy  _friends_." The last word had been spit out, like some rancid insult.

Vlad's eyes widened when, instead of Ron replying, Neville interrupted, "Y-you leave him alone." The tone was shaky at best and the way the poor guy was hunched in himself showed he was anything but confident in what he was doing. Still, it was probably the first time Vlad saw why Neville had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Draco's eyes narrowed in disdain. "Stay out of this, Longbottom. You'll just hurt yourself."

So much for reading during the game. "Look," Vlad began. "It was just a mistake –"

"Hey, Malfoy!" crowed one of the other Gryffindors (Dean Thomas?) a little further down. "How much do you want to bet we'll still win the match even with Snape refereeing?"

Vlad could almost hear Draco's teeth grinding at the jab, a little shocked himself by the lack of respect the Gryffindors had for the Potions Master. They didn't even use "professor" before the man's name and that was, in many ways, a direct insult to somebody who had worked hard to gain enough knowledge to teach others. Even if the Potions Master was a jerk at times, that didn't warrant such clear contempt.

At this point, several more Slytherins had taken notice of the squabble and it seemed like everybody was at near blows with only a slab of wood in the way. Then, almost miraculously, Lee Jordan's voice echoed around the stadium, "Potter has caught the snitch!"

It had barely been five minutes into the game.

Vlad couldn't help but grin a little. The moment the announcement had been made, the two arguing parties had immediately stilled in slight surprise and shock. Who had ever heard of a Quidditch game lasting only a few minutes? Days – weeks even – were sometimes common occurrences among the higher ranked players, but Harry had managed to capture the snitch in an almost unheard of time span with Professor Snape watching nonetheless. Harry had probably just set a school record and saved the young vampire a fight to clear up.

"Ha! Did you see that, Malfoy?" Ron gleefully jeered.

None of them had actually  _seen_  what had happened, but Draco was too incensed to point that out. Instead, he turned upon the redhead and opened his mouth to snarl –

Vlad's hand gripping the blonde's forearm was the only thing that kept Draco from continuing whatever he had been planning to do. The Malfoy heir had thrown a filthy glare at the young vampire at first, but at Vlad's meaningful glance up towards the teacher's booth, Draco scowled and relented.

The Slytherin's backing down seemed to invigorate Ron even more. "What, got nothing to say?"

Vlad had never disliked Ron. Sure, the guy was brash and blunt, but he was never purposefully vindictive. That honesty and sincerity made the young vampire tolerate the Gryffindor's constant taunting towards his fellow Housemates much more easily than he might have otherwise. Vlad had never been one to judge based on outside impressions. If he had, he probably would have demanded a change out of Slytherin the first day in school simply because his House had hardly been the greatest of people. He did not know the redhead very well and therefore he could not critique Ron like Draco and his companions tended to do.

But Vlad was not feeling particularly charitable after his peculiar holidays and for the first time during his time at Hogwarts, his self-control snapped.

"We have plenty to say," Vlad snarled irritably. "We're just smart enough  _not_  to. Besides, Harry just won the game. Shouldn't you be cheering for him rather than arguing with us? Or is your stupid pride worth more than your  _friend_?" There, that should keep the redhead quiet for a decent amount of time.

And indeed, Ron had merely gaped in response just as he had done the first time on their first train trip heading into Hogwarts. The hurt and wary look in the redhead's eyes made Vlad's conscience stir uneasily and he felt horrible for letting himself go like that. But another part of him burned with a sort of satisfaction he didn't like acknowledging.

Vlad was spared the sight of an insulted Ron Weasley as the crowd began to sweep them away and out of the stands. The results had been announced already – a clear Gryffindor victory – and there was nothing left to do but return to school.

Vlad allowed himself to be separated from Draco as the mass of bodies pushed and shoved for the quickest way out. He didn't exactly want to see what Draco's reaction would be like to his defense, even if it would be positive. He had to remind himself that hurting people like that, even if it wasn't physical, was not something he wanted to make a habit. His greatest wish was to be normal – anything but a vampire. And the only way to do that was to avoid anything remotely associated with them.

He was planning on immediately heading up to the library and sitting alone with his books to accompany him, but as his feet led him up to the castle, the corner of his peripheral vision caught sight of something hovering in the sky.

At first he absently dismissed it as another one of the common birds making its way over the school property. It was an everyday occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary. He was one of the few lingering towards the back of the mass heading back to Hogwarts, but those ahead of him didn't see it at all. If they didn't think it worth noticing, why should he?

But then he realized that the so-called bird was heading  _towards_  the Forbidden Forest. And Vlad had long ago realized that normal aviators never approached the magical woods. There must have been something unsettling about the entire place to keep the birds away, which meant that whatever Vlad had briefly seen was anything but regular. Vlad stopped in his tracks, allowing the last of the crowd to get ahead before peering closer at the flying projectile.

Imagine his surprise – or rather, lack of it – when he saw that it was Harry on his broom.

Good garlic, was the wizarding world's savior really the right person to go looking for trouble around every corner? The Gryffindor had run into the troll after Vlad had, had nearly choked on the snitch during his first Quidditch game, had run into a three-headed dog, and had been investigating what could be lurking in the third floor corridor.

And that was only counting the things Vlad had heard second-hand.

Vlad decided to curse his curiosity when he began to follow Harry. This was probably not a smart thing to do considering flying by broom was a much faster form of travel and flying over the Forbidden Forest was much safer than running into it on ground, but something was pushing him to pursue. If anything, maybe he could help Harry out with whatever he was investigating this time.

The Gryffindor was too far for Vlad to place a Tracking Charm so he followed to the very best of his ability, constantly looking up for a point of reference. It went well for a few minutes where the contrast between the sky and Harry's darker form was easy to spot. But once the canopy of the forest trees barred Vlad's view, things became considerably more complicated.

Scowling, Vlad tucked his book under one arm before reaching down to pick up a small twig. He really should stop now and go back when he still had the chance. It was the wise thing to do. Yet his thoughts remained only that: thoughts. His body just continued moving, his lips forming the words, "Point me." The twig spun in his palm like a compass before wobbling to an abrupt stop pointing southwest. It took a few moments of trekking through sparse brush and stumbling on a few large roots before Vlad heard the first signs of conversation.

He carefully tread across the forest floor until he was pressed up against a tree before peering around the trunk and catching sight of a shadowy clearing. There, Snape stood, towering over the quivering form of Professor Quirrell.

Even with the Potions Master's back to him, Vlad was fairly sure a thunderous expression was on the man's face. Not only had the professor just watched one of his most loathed students succeed (quite literally) under his nose, but now he was also facing the exact type of person prone to induce the man's irritation.

"…d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…"

"Oh, I though we'd keep this private," said the Potions Master, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

Quirrell mumbled under his breath, "What are you talking about –"

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" Professor Snape interrupted harshly.

"B-b-but Severus, I –"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him. "And you know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly and the slight rustling in a nearby birch tree abruptly pulled Vlad's attention away from the confrontation. His eyes immediately snapped towards the direction of the sound and his jaw almost dropped open when he saw Harry half crouched on his broom amongst the leaves of the tree almost directly above the two professors. The Gryffindor seemed flustered; he clearly had almost fallen out of his position from the owl's sudden call. But he quickly righted himself and was avidly listening to the exchange again, completely oblivious to Vlad's incredulous stare.

Well, at least Vlad had found what he had come for. But he could do very little in a situation like this when two far more experienced wizards would most likely punish the both of them should they be discovered. Vlad could only hope that Harry didn't do anything more stupid.

The young vampire's attention was drawn back to the two grown men as Professor Snape gave one last warning look at Quirrell. Then the Potions Master was striding out the clearing and back to the castle, pulling the hood of his black cloak over his head.

Glancing up, Vlad saw to his relief that Harry was flying away as well, probably believing that anything worth seeing was now at its end. The young vampire too decided that now was a good time to follow suit and leave undetected.

But he didn't have the chance as a sudden wave of Darkness choked him and sent him crumpling to his knees. A hand involuntarily reached out to grasp the wood he had been leaning on and Vlad prayed that his unexpected movement hadn't caused too noticeable of a noise.

It seemed that Quirrell hadn't heard a thing because a second later, Vlad could hear the man muttering to himself. He could barely make out the words, "I'm sorry, Master. I will be more careful –" A whimper of pain clogged off the rest of the sentence. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Quirrell stopped quivering and his voice came out strong and unwavering. "You're right, Master. I will do as you command."

Vlad had to wait for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to be completely out of the clearing before he could move again. The Darkness had been similar – horribly similar – to the magic he had tasted during Christmas and with terrifying clarity he realized that the three Gryffindors had been devastatingly wrong.

Professor Snape wasn't the culprit. Quirrell was.

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**The dialogue between Snape and Quirrell was mostly from the first Harry Potter novel. Please don't sue me for this. Just a heads up :)**

**And yup, that escalated rather quickly. I was kind of debating whether to put Vlad's discover in this chapter or not but I decided that I should. I had always planned for him to figure it out far earlier (I hinted at it when I mentioned Vlad's unease around Quirrell). In the back of his mind, Vlad had always been suspicious anyways. He IS a Dark Creature technically, so he would be able to sense how "odd" Quirrell is from the start.**

**It's a REALLY tiny, eensy-weensy detail, but in the novel, Harry couldn't hear what Quirrell mumbled after Snape made the whole "students shouldn't know about the Stone" comment. I made Vlad hear it on purpose...because he has better hearing. In the show, it kind of portrayed that born vampires don't just magically get all of their powers and whatnot after their sixteenth birthday. They kind of have their powers beforehand, especially if they're strong. So here was just a minuscule hint of that.**

**Till next time!**


	13. Hiding Secrets

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thank you to my reviewers! I always appreciate the time you put into writing a comment!**

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**Chapter 13: Hiding Secrets**

Exams of the year weren't for another ten weeks, and for the normal student that was plenty of time to do little else but procrastinate. But for the likes of Hermione Granger – a true wayward Ravenclaw-turned-Gryffindor in Vlad's opinion – ten weeks meant barely enough time to squeeze in all of the studying needed. He never spoke to her and only saw her occasionally during his long hours in the library but even he could feel her nervous vibes through the walls of the castle.

And it wasn't only Vlad that was sensing her tension; it seemed like the rest of his House had caught Hermione's fervor. It surprised him at first because although Slytherins were far from slackers, they were hardly the studious material either. It wasn't until he questioned Draco about it that he learned Slytherins were good at anything that would place them at a higher advantage and standing. High final marks were important and something that could influence the future and hence it they were something worth working towards. It was far from the Ravenclaws' curious motivations that pushed them; it was their ambition and drive that made Slytherins just as good, if not better learners when needed.

That, Vlad could understand and normally his House's sudden turns towards constant studying like himself would have been a positive change. But the supercharged tension in the air only served as fire to Vlad's stress flame.

It was difficult dragging around the knowledge that a potential criminal was walking amongst them and as their professor, no less. He would have screamed the information at the top of his lungs to the nearest listener if he could. But all he would get would be disbelieving stares from both the staff and the students. Who would take his word over a grown wizard's? And the stuttering Defense teacher hardly seemed the type to concoct diabolical plans of thievery.

So Vlad carried what he knew like a weight tied to his shoulders and he found himself becoming more than a touch paranoid.

The Gryffindor trio's antics had hardly helped his condition. Every time he passed the Third Floor, Vlad noticed them disappearing into a certain forbidden corridor, no doubt making sure that the three-headed dog was still doing its job. Whenever one of them passed by Quirrell, they would smile encouragingly and Ron had begun to tell people off for laughing at the man's stutter. Harry must have told his friends what he had heard in the Forbidden Forest and all three of them had clearly taken it the wrong way; they still believed that Professor Snape was the perpetrator and doing everything they could to boost Quirrell's chances.

Vlad wanted nothing more than to run screaming up to them that they had the wrong guy, but that would only make them suspicious. Ron already disliked Slytherins on principle and Hermione had always carried some lingering grudge that her only obstacle to being top of their year was a Romanian transfer. The other two heavily influenced Harry and he – out of all of them – disliked Professor Snape the most.

So the young vampire was in a bind that he couldn't quite get out of.

"Bats!" Vlad snapped aloud as his quill broke for the third time that day. He had never had problems with quills before; his father had always favored the old way of doing things. But the stress had been getting to the young vampire lately and it seemed like he had been placing too much pressure on his writing utensil. The librarian seemed to appear out of thin air upon his exclamation and with a sharp flick of her finger, indicated that it was time for him to leave the premises for the day.

Normally, Madame Pince was lenient towards him because he was always a constant presence in her library. But it was testing season and she was just as snappy as the rest of them during a time when countless careless students vandalized her precious books.

Vlad didn't even bother arguing. He only waved his hand in one irritated motion to organize his things in his bag before departing. Several of the students around him stared curiously at his display of wandless magic; it was apparently still a novelty to see it since it was such a revered skill to have. Many of the students and even some of his teachers continued stared at Vlad when he performed magic, but he had long ago learned to ignore those looks.

He exited the library in a rather large huff and crossed his arms irritably as his resident stalker abruptly blocked his path.

"What do you want now?" Vlad growled. "I'm really not in the mood."

"I can tell," the Bloody Baron mused. "But I just wanted to check up on Hogwarts' little bloodsucker."

Vlad had discovered earlier in the year that the Baron only so blatantly mentioned his secret when there were no witnesses around; it was the only reason why he let the jab slide. "Well, here I am and you've checked up on me. Now can you leave me alone?"

"I have news, actually. Interesting news if you're willing to listen."

The young vampire was tempted to tell the ghost he could keep the news for all he cared. But the mere fact that the Baron had bothered to go out of his way to tell Vlad such a thing made him pause. Common sense kicked in and the Slytherin had to grit his teeth before asking, "Alright. What is it?"

The pleased smirk on the Bloody Baron's face made Vlad want to burn something. "I'm sure you know young Draco. That Malfoy child." The ghost ran a hand over one of his slivery wounds. "I believe he has stumbled upon the sudden pastime of trailing those three Gryffindors you seem so interested in lately."

That was hardly news. Even with Vlad's tempering presence, the blonde still seemed to insist upon finding some way of getting the three in trouble. Draco had begun to find fault in everything any of the three did and that too had added further stress upon Vlad's already large burden. It hardly endeared him any more to the young aristocrat.

"So what?"

"So he decided to follow them a few minutes ago…just as they were heading down to visit the groundskeeper."

Vlad was about to snap another retort about the insignificance of the ghost's observation. But then it hit him like a ton of bricks and he was making a mad dash for Hagrid's hut. Those three would no doubt question the half-giant about his three-headed dog and if Draco were to hear about the Philosopher's Stone…

Good garlic, Vlad would have a hell of a time trying to fix that.

He caught Draco just as he was halfway across the field leading to Hagrid's home. Vlad was so relieved to have stopped any incident from happening that he barreled into the blonde with a broad grin on his face.

Needless to say, it was an odd sight for the Malfoy heir to see his typically reticent Housemate so chipper.

"What's got you smiling so much?"

"I think I might have finished studying for the exams," Vlad replied, the lie rolling smoothly off his tongue. He was so reassured with his recent success that he couldn't quite muster up the guilt that normally accompanied such an act.

"And you ran all the way down here to tell me this?"

"I was just passing by and I wanted to share the news. Why don't you come with me back to the Common Room?"

The odd warmth and companionship that Vlad was exuding was clearly unsettling the blonde Slytherin but that wasn't enough to stop him from glancing towards Hagrid's hut and replying, "Why don't you go ahead? I'll catch up with you later."

In a flash, Vlad's good mood vanished. "What? Are you sure?" When the rejection was clear upon the Malfoy heir's face, the young vampire quickly cut in, "Why don't I just follow you?"

"But," Draco spluttered, thrown off by the rapid questions. "Why would you want to follow me?"

"Is there anything wrong with it?"

"No – yes – I mean perhaps…"

Draco wasn't giving up, obviously. So Vlad could only see one more route ahead of him. "What were you doing anyway?"

The question seemed to focus Draco, pull him to attention. His stormy gray eyes stared into Vlad's own blue ones for a long moment before he sighed and replied, "I was following Potter and his lackeys." Before Vlad could comment, the blonde continued, "And I know you are going to say something ridiculously Hufflepuff, but I'm not going to stop this time. They're up to something; I just know it!"

They  _were_  up to something and that was exactly what Vlad didn't want Draco to find out. "Draco, you shouldn't be doing this. It's almost supper, why don't we –"

"Look, Vlad. I'm not going to pass this up. They read something this morning from that great oaf of a man and it had them excited. The only thing that ever excites those Gryffindors is something ridiculous – and dangerous."

Then the blonde was swiftly making his way towards the hut again and Vlad was hastily following, desperately grasping Draco's sleeve in an effort to slow him down. But they had already been too close and the young vampire's move sent the both of them careening into the window of the hut.

The two of them stared wide-eyed inside as four pairs of eyes stared back at them. It was a moment of stillness and shock because while Vlad had managed to stop any eavesdropping from happening, he had probably just gotten Hogwarts' groundskeeper fired. There was no way Draco wouldn't go writing to his father about the freshly born dragon – the egg shards were still surrounding it! – huddled upon Hagrid's tabletop.

In the next moment, Vlad was running away and dragging Draco with him. He distantly heard the half-giant bellow, "Stop them!" But by the time the trio had managed to run out the door, the two Slytherins were already far too close to the castle.

The three would no doubt think Vlad had been a part of it. The young vampire didn't want to think about what they were saying now about him and Draco. He only pulled the blonde along behind him, just as he had once done with a troll thundering after them. Only when they were back in the Slytherin dorms and their room's door securely closed with nobody in sight did they stop.

"Merlin, did you know the oaf had a dragon? Is that why you were trying to stop me?" Draco asked incredulously.

"I didn't –" Vlad began. But then he stopped and realized that it was pointless to argue that he wasn't trying to stop the blonde. Draco wasn't stupid. He could probably easily see what Vlad had been trying to do now. The only good thing about the situation was that Draco probably thought that Vlad had been trying to hide the creature rather than the knowledge about the Philosopher's Stone. "I didn't know Hagrid had a dragon."

"Then why were you holding me back?"

There were so many reasons Vlad could have stood there all day listing them. "I just don't like it when you follow those three. It's invading their privacy."

"Well look at what we found because of it!" A gleeful glint was now in Draco's eyes and it hurt the young vampire to see it. "Now we have some way of getting that lout fired and maybe Potter's gang expelled!"

"No!" Vlad burst out. He couldn't have those three expelled! "Can't you see what you're doing? Can't you see that what you're doing is – is –"

"Is what?"

"Is…weird! It's creepy, Draco! Nobody follows people like you do! It's strange and it makes you seem obsessed with them!" Vlad almost wanted to laugh at his own hypocrisy.

"But…" the Malfoy heir faltered. The comments about what he had appeared to be made his pause. If there was anything that could stop a Slytherin, it was pointing out some clear detriment in their actions. Being seen as weird and obsessive was hardly what Draco wanted to seem like and if he went and revealed what he had found, he would have to admit that he had been following the three. "Surely it's worth it. It would get rid of that tiresome half-breed they call a groundskeeper and not seeing Weasley's or that Mudblood's face everyday would be a big improvement."

"You can't just expel Harry Potter, though! People will notice and a lot of them would probably back him."

"Well he should be expelled too," Draco hissed back with a vehemence Vlad hadn't expected. "He's the reason the Dark Lord is gone."

Vlad froze at that before he felt a chill run through his body. Draco's sudden stricken expression made their argument come to a screeching halt. The young vampire had suspected that the blonde's loyalties had not always leaned towards the Light, but he had hoped that it wouldn't be any worse than that. He had hoped that the Malfoys weren't the rumored followers of the deceased Dark wizard named Voldemort. But how could Vlad continue to hope such things when the Malfoy heir had practically just said what Vlad hadn't been wanting hear?

"Look," Vlad finally said, softer, and before Draco could say anything more. "I just think you should leave it alone, okay?" It was a placating comment, a comment telling the blonde that Vlad wouldn't say anything else about the matter so long as it wouldn't come up again.

Vlad merely wanted to have somebody he could talk to that wasn't Dark. And it was just his luck that the one person who spoke to him the most within Hogwarts was Draco Malfoy. So the young vampire would give his tentative acquaintance a chance.

He should have known better. Vlad found Draco's bed empty just a few nights later.

And he was willing to bet that there were three other empty beds in Gryffindor tower as well.

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**Oh, Draco.**

**Anyway, I guess I've been feeling deprived of writing after my extended absence. Another chapter! :) And yes, it's the chapter with Norbert (well, really, it's Norberta)!**

**Their first year should be finished in about ten chapters - give or take a few. Then summer comes into play!**

**Till next time!**


	14. Did I Forget to Tell You?

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thank you so much to my reviewers! Your comments always help me!**

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**Chapter 14: Did I Forget to Tell You?**

"They're trying to hand off the dragon egg in the Astronomy Tower."

Vlad groaned softly as he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Bats. Who are they handing it off to?"

"I'm not quite sure," mused the Baron. "But it appears to be a dragon tamer – probably related to the Weasley boy." A wry grin touched the ghost's mouth. "The man has hair just as bright."

Vlad had no idea that Ron had an elder brother who was a dragon tamer. In fact, he had thought that the twins were his only siblings. But Draco had always ranted about how the Weasley's were constantly crowded with children so he should have known better.

"It would be best not to go," the Bloody Baron advised. "Just let the Malfoy child make his mistake. It is hardly going to affect you in the long run should you help him."

Vlad's mouth twitched upwards in a self-condemning manner. "Trust me: I know. But I suppose I'm just incurable."

The ghost shrugged. "Your funeral, I suppose. Don't forget though; you now owe me a favor for this information."

"As promised," nodded the young vampire. "So long as it's within reason." He watched in silence as a satisfied grin settled upon the Baron's face and stayed in place until the silvery apparition had drifted away through a nearby wall.

Upon discovering Draco's bed empty, Vlad had just reacted and pulled himself out of the dormitories and out of the Common Room to stand within the dark corridors. There, he had summoned the Bloody Baron with a whisper into the air that he hadn't been completely sure would work. But the ghost always had a tab on him for some reason and soon enough, the school's most feared spirit had appeared. When Vlad had asked him to search for Draco, the Baron had agreed for a price of a favor. But the young vampire had been expecting it; Slytherin's House ghost was named so for a reason.

Now standing in the hallways out of curfew in the dead of the night, Vlad felt like a complete idiot for acting so brashly. But he had gotten this far; he couldn't go back now. So he plastered himself as closely to the stone walls as possible and began to quietly make his way up to the Astronomy Tower.

It was only by pure luck, in his opinion, that he didn't run into Mr. Filch the entire way. Mrs. Norris had spotted him once but she merely glanced at him before leisurely walking off – something Vlad was still sure had something to do with Nox's influence.

Just as he was a little ways up the tower's steps, the rustle of movement lower downwards made him jolt in place and jump into one of the nearby small alcoves scattered throughout the stairway. Vlad forced his breathing to calm itself and held his limbs as still as they could be.

By the sun's burning rays, were the crazy things he got himself into worth it?

A few moments passed by and, much to Vlad's confusion, nothing and nobody appeared. Just as he had let his guard down and was about to step back into the open, hushed voices just in front of him pushed him back into hiding.

"Shh! Goodness, Ron, can you get any louder?"

"I can't help it! It's too cramped in here."

"Maybe this is a good place to leave the cloak."

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"There's nobody here."

Vlad stared in confusion as the disembodied voices seemed to spontaneously hover just in front of his alcove and his eyes only widened a moment later as the three Gryffindors he had tried to protect a few days earlier appeared out of thin air. At first, he thought they had performed Apparition. But then his gaze focused upon the cloak in Harry's hands and he realized that it must be a magical object hiding the three from view.

Who in the name of garlic thought it would be a good idea to give Harry Potter an Invisibility Cloak?

Hermione's face was scrunched in clear discomfort now that she was no longer underneath the safety of the cloak. "Maybe we should put it back on."

"Relax," Ron grinned easily as if he wasn't breaking a dozen school regulations. "Malfoy's got Filch occupied. Got himself caught trying to tell McGonagall, remember?" The redhead snorted. "Idiot."

Draco, Vlad decided, was a right dunce. Did he really think that informing the Gryffindor Head of House that three of her prized students were trying to smuggle a dragon in the dead of the night would be a smart choice? Draco had probably sounded like a mere child trying to get some petty rivals in trouble with an unlikely story. There was nothing he could do for the blonde now that Professor McGonagall had caught the Malfoy heir. The young vampire had to grit his teeth in annoyance and waited for the three to get far enough away before finally stepping out.

He was about to head back to his dormitories when his feet caught themselves on something. Vlad glanced down and was surprised to see the Invisibility Cloak there, forgotten in the three's haste. He reached down to pick the cloth up and examined it, feeling the soft material. It was a foolish mistake on their part to forget the one thing that ensured their safe return. A great part of Vlad told him that he should leave it for them to find. But at a sudden meow at the base of the staircase, the young vampire quickly pulled the cloak over his head and pressed himself as closely to the wall as possible.

Mrs. Norris came around the bend a moment later. Her eyes were locked on to Vlad's position, but she did nothing other than tilting her head further down the steps where a lamp's light flickered. Vlad kept his eyes locked upon the feline as he carefully walked down the staircase and at the exit, he saw Mr. Filch patrolling the premises.

"Those brats they can get away," sneered the aging Squib. "Well, I'll get them. I know they're out here somewhere…"

It seemed like the corridor patroller wasn't going to leave his post any time soon. Vlad uneasily watched the man pace back and forth, a part of him hoping that Filch would just leave. But it seemed like luck wasn't with him that night and he realized with growing dread that the only way to get back to the Slytherin dormitories undetected would be with Harry's cloak. Vlad hadn't yet learned how to correctly cast the Disillusionment Charm yet and a part of him burned at that thought. Now he had to choose: leave the cloak for the three or use it himself?

Vlad sighed in defeat and did the only thing he could do.

~0~

Vlad didn't miss the incredulous glance Draco sent him during breakfast a few weeks later, a few days before exams. The blonde was actively staring at the slip of paper – identical to his own – in the Romanian's hand.

"That's a detention slip," Blaise noted from his seat. "The Prefects won't be pleased."

Vlad sighed. No, they wouldn't be pleased. But what could he do? The only good thing the past few weeks had brought was an increased ease amongst the Slytherins when he was around. It seemed like interacting him was no longer that much of an issue, even if they did still ignore him when he seated himself in the center of the classrooms. They had short exchanges, but exchanges nonetheless.

Later that night, as Vlad dragged himself down to Hagrid's hut where the detention slip had told him to report to, he spotted Draco already waiting.

"I didn't believe it," the blonde said disbelievingly. "I really didn't believe it this morning. But you went and bloody followed me that night didn't you?"

The young vampire let out an exasperated breath. "Do I really need to answer that? Of course I did. And for the record, I  _did_  tell you not to continue following those three. It only got you here."

It was the first time Draco didn't bother to retort. He only watched Vlad with a strange look in his eyes, something between a mix of confusion and astonishment. "You followed me because you knew I would get in trouble?"

"I  _tried_  to keep you out of trouble, Draco," Vlad sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Whatever the blonde was going to say in reply was cut off as muffled footsteps behind them indicated the arrival of the Gryffindors. That in itself was another thing to set off Vlad's bad mood. Despite having chosen to leave the cloak behind for the three to find, they  _still_  had gone and gotten themselves caught. In other words, everything Vlad had done that night had been for nothing.

Hagrid came out of his home a few minutes later carrying a large crossbow and a quiver of arrows, his gigantic hound following closely behind.

"Well, hello ther," the gigantic man said with less than his usual enthusiasm. He didn't seem particularly pleased to see either Slytherin. "Fer your detention t'nite, we're goin ter be going inter the Forbidden Forest."

Draco seemed to freeze at the news. "The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night – there's all sorts of things in there. I've heard werewolves are in there." The blonde screwed his face up in something Vlad could only define as panic. "I'm not going into that forest."

Ron just made a choking sound in his throat.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay in Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff! It's not for students to do –"

"Leave it," Vlad cut in, giving Draco a long look. "The sooner we get started the sooner we get this over with."

That seemed to be enough to shut the blonde up and the half-giant gave the Malfoy heir one last glare before speaking again. "Right then. Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me for a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp high, he pointed to a narrow earth track in the soil that disappeared into the thick, black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they gazed where the man pointed.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second one this week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" Draco asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Just keep ter the path. And so long as yer with me or Fang, yeh'll be fine." The half-giant shifted the weapons in his arms. "Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. The unicorn must'er been staggerin' the whole night."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, glancing at the dog's long teeth.

"All righ'," replied Hagrid. "But I warn yeh, he's a right coward. So me, Hermione, an' Ron'll go one way an' Draco, Vlad, Harry, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us find the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? An' if any of yer get in trouble, send up red sparks. So be careful and let's go."

The forest was black and far more foreboding than it had been during the daytime. Vlad uneasily eyed the branches dividing the stars above and the complete silence set him on edge. A little ways into it, they reached a fork in the earth path and they split – Hagrid's group taking the right while Vlad's took the left. They continued to walk in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every once in a while, their eyes would be drawn to a silvery spot amongst the leaves lining the path but their party did little else.

Vlad couldn't help but wonder if this really was a detention for students. Was it really safe to have them in the Forbidden Forest alone with nothing but a dog between them and the unknown dangers ahead of them?

"Do you think it was the werewolves that got the unicorn?" Harry asked in a clear effort to break the silence.

"I don't think so," Vlad replied, a little relieved that the Gryffindor was still willing to talk to him. "Unicorns are powerful magical creatures. They're supposedly almost impossible to see, let alone catch. At least as long as you're not a girl and completely innocent of all sin possible in the world."

Draco snorted, a slight note of unease in his voice. "Merlin, you read too much."

"It doesn't hurt to read," the young vampire replied glibly.

Their conversation dwindled afterward, all of them lost in their own thoughts. They walked for an almost indeterminate amount of time while trailing the blood. It was Fang's abrupt pause and whimper that pulled them out of their deliberations.

"What's he stopping for?" Draco asked with his voice wavering a little.

"I'm not so sure," Harry replied. "Maybe…" His train of thought disappeared as he winced in pain, his hand automatically flying to the infamous scar upon his forehead.

"That can't be a good sign," Vlad muttered. "We should probably get back now and tell Hagrid."

"I completely –" Draco froze in the middle of his sentence and completely clammed up. All of the color drained from face just as it had when he had been facing the troll and his gray eyes focused upon something beyond Vlad's shoulder.

It was almost comically like a horror movie. Vlad had never been allowed to see one, of course, but he was fairly sure this was almost an exact replica of one. He would have laughed had his life not been in danger.

Slowly, Vlad turned around and for the longest moment, he could barely register what he was seeing. There, a unicorn lay upon the ground. Its beauty would have been stunning and its ethereal majesty would have left all of them gaping, but seeing it collapsed upon the floor and bleeding profusely from its neck and legs left a horrified aftertaste in Vlad's mouth.

And that wasn't even the main thing that caught his attention. Because at the same time, a figure cloaked entirely in black hovered like a wraith above the forest floor, creeping toward the fallen magical creature. The slightest hint of silvery blood coated its lips and hooked fingers.

Fang let out a long howl before bolting away. Draco was the first to react, automatically dashing after the hound. Vlad looked back desperately as the two disappeared into the darkness and turned a panicked look in Harry's direction when the Gryffindor let out a much louder gasp of pain and crumpled to the floor.

Vlad had no idea what was making Harry suffer, but he immediately crouched close to the other boy's frame and hastily clutched at the thin wrist scraping at the lightning-bolt scar. He felt helpless again, powerless in the face of a life-and-death situation. In a brief moment of clarity, he remembered to snap his fingers and a burst of red sparks shot into the sky. Vlad could only hope that help would arrive soon.

The entire time, the young vampire kept panic-stricken eyes upon the black figure. It seemed to disregard their presence, focused upon the blood it was drinking. But when Vlad had sent the sparks out, it abruptly lifted its head and focused upon the two boys for the first time.

Desperate, Vlad tried to make eye contact, hoping to gain some sort of hold over the thing before him. But the hood covered its face too well and the young vampire realized with dread that hypnotism wouldn't help him this time.

The black creature began to rise up, hovering closer and closer as Harry began to whimper and moan louder and louder. Vlad crouched helplessly, trying in vain to try and drag the Gryffindor with him. Just as the thing was a few feet away and about to lunge, the young vampire clenched his eyes shut and turned face away. He waited for the pain to come, waited for his death to come unbidden.

But the only thing that he heard was a sudden roar and the slight rustle of a body leaping over his own. A shriek followed the appearance of the new entity and only when Vlad was still breathing and alive a few moments later did he dare to open his eyes and slowly turn to seek out his rescuer.

A sleek, pitch-black panther prowled the clearing, its strong muscles rippling underneath its fur. Its long tail twitched back and forth in agitation and its mouth was open in a threatening growl with all of its lethal teeth displayed as warning. Vlad shuddered a little at the magic enveloping the animal and he stared at it pace for the longest time.

Then he made eye contact and he suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. He had only seen that dichotomy of electric blue and striking emerald in one feline before…

"Nox?" Vlad whispered in surprise.

The panther froze at the word and something akin to a purr escaped its throat. As if that single syllable had solidified something, the large cat quickly made its way to Vlad's side and curled up protectively around him.

"You've got to be kidding," Vlad said wondrously. He tentatively reached out a hand and gently rubbed his familiar behind the ears. "It really is you." A slight smile touched his lips. "I should have known my father wouldn't choose a normal cat."

So he was right when he had assumed Nox wasn't a Kneazle. It seemed he had a cat that could turn into a panther…and that was perfectly alright. He wasn't going to argue it when his familiar had just saved him from an untimely death.

"Do you think you can help me bring Harry back?" Vlad asked Nox. The panther gave a quick look at the Gryffindor's now limp form and gave something akin to a shrug of approval.

For the first time since entering the Forbidden Forest, the young vampire felt secure and safe. He laughed and helped haul Harry's unconscious body on to Nox's back. He wasn't worried about finding his way back to the castle. He was fairly sure that if his familiar could find his way out here, he could find his way back.

…Right?

~0~

_Hello Vladdy!_

_You can't imagine how proud I am of you! A detention?_

_Exactly what I expected from you. I was so pleased to see the letter the Headmaster sent._

_And it seems he mentioned something about your pet?_

_I was sure I told you that the thing was a sealed creature, but I suppose it slipped my mind._

_But I suppose you know now, right? I told you it was a wonderful gift!_

_We should celebrate when you get home! Just a few more days, am I right, Vladdy?_

_I was getting worried you were only getting good grades. It's good to know you got into some trouble._

_Your Father_

* * *

**Wow, I guess I really am on a roll right now.**

**Anyways not much to say for this chapter, I guess. Just that yes, they didn't run into the centaurs. There's a reason for that.**

**And I kind of hinted that Nox was more than he seemed. I never really outright said he was a Kneazle, right? He is a sealed creature. His true and more powerful form, the magical panther, is sealed away. Typically he looks like a normal black cat. But in reality, he is actually the form he was in this chapter. And no, Nox can't dictate when he can switch between the two forms. Can you guess what does?**

**Till next time!**


	15. Sometimes It's About the Timing

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**And ew, I read through this again and saw a few VERY obvious errors grammatically. It was ugly and terrible so I went and edited it. Just FYI even though the changes are so tiny you probably wouldn't notice them.**

**And thank you once again to my reviewers!**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Sometimes It's About the Timing**

It turned out that Vlad needn't have worried about finding his way back alone. Harry regained consciousness quickly and Hagrid had seen the red sparks the young vampire had sent up, catching the two boys just a few moments following the black creature's disappearance. The half-giant had stared at Nox's larger form for a long moment of astonishment – and a little too much adoration – before breaking into giddy exclamations of how handsome the feline was. Needless to say, Nox was more than pleased with the attention and gob smacked expressions graced the rest of the students (Draco and Fang included).

Upon returning to the castle in the dead of the night, the group of students found Professor McGonagall waiting for them. She had been assigned to ensure all of them were back and once she did, she waved them all off to their dormitories with the exception of Vlad and his familiar. Nox had remained at the young vampire's side, slightly angled as if to shield Vlad from any further attacks. Both Slytherin student and magical creature trailed the Transfigurations teacher up to a staircase guarded by a stone statue.

"Bubble gum," Professor McGonagall said with a slight tightening of her mouth. It was clear that the passcode was less than what the woman would have liked, but the statue leaped to the side at the word, giving them passage.

A sense of foreboding overcame Vlad as he followed his professor. He knew where they were going to: the headmaster's office. But surely he hadn't done anything warranting this. He had already served his detention; hopefully he had not accidentally done anything else. When Professor McGonagall opened the door and ushered Vlad inside, the vampire couldn't help but gape.

The office was one of the queerest he had ever seen in one of those garishly curious-yet-stinging-my-eyes-a-little-bit sort of ways. Little silver contraptions were spinning of their own accord or twisting around, shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, models of things Vlad didn't recognize were scattered about, scrolls of untold secrets were tucked into the small crevices throughout the room, glowing cabinets cast a slight hue illuminating the room further, and the large windows behind the headmaster's desk displayed the night sky in all of its glory. The place was predominantly gold and crimson, most likely reminiscent of the headmaster's own Gryffindor House. The aged man's desk was littered with papers and multiple quills, one of which was still absently scribbling away. When the vampire finally caught sight of a stand housing a majestic bird, he almost gasped. The flaming beauty of it had Vlad avidly staring, his eyes catching the flickering of the feathers as if the creature was a flickering flame unto its own.

A soft growl of annoyance from Nox dragged Vlad away from his observations, just in time for the headmaster to lower his gaze upon the young Slytherin. A cheerful smile touched the older wizard's face and when he spoke, it was laced with a soothing tone underlying the words. "Thank you Minerva for the explanation. You may go; I'm sure you are tired. I will just have a quick word with Mr. Dracula – no worries."

The Transfigurations professor nodded in respect and then swiftly left the two wizards to themselves.

They just observed each other for the longest time. Vlad carefully noted the sky-blue hue of the headmaster's eyes, so similar and yet so different from his own darker shade. The pair of eyes was set into a aged face, but the vampire saw far too much vitality and power within the man's expression to believe the age equaled frailty. If anything, the snow-white color of the wizard's beard and hair meant that he had a great many more years of experience. The vampire had read about this wizard's achievements. The man's robes were a little on the strange side, but Vlad knew that looks could be deceiving and he hardly expected anything less; he had seen his own grandfather's choice in clothing and the headmaster's wardrobe was actually quite an improvement.

The scrutinizing between them abruptly died when Vlad felt the faintest brushing against his mind. He immediately recoiled from the ethereal touch and his eyes sharpened upon the headmaster's face, but before he could say or do anything, the touch disappeared – leaving Vlad wondering if it had ever really been there.

"I noticed you were admiring Fawkes," Professor Dumbledore said, continuing as if he had not noticed whatever had transpired a moment ago. "I often find myself admiring my friend's beauty too. Phoenixes are rare; I am fortunate to have acquainted myself with one."

Vlad felt his nerves coming to the surface again. He was facing and speaking to the highest authority in the castle and one of the most powerful wizards of the century. "I've read about them. The descriptions understate how amazing they are."

Fawkes seemed pleased by the compliment, preening at the words. Nox seemed less entertained by the praise, however. He bared his teeth a little and nudged his body against Vlad's legs in an attempt to draw his attention away from the phoenix.

Professor Dumbledore laughed at the sight. "I see your own familiar is unhappy. Well, I must say he is quite dashing himself." His chuckles died down before a more composed and sober expression replaced his mirth. "As dashing as he is though, I'm afraid we do not allow any magical creatures outside of the student list we sent with your invitation letter during the summer."

"I had no idea, sir," Vlad replied, making sure to keep his voice as respectful as possible. He was hardly going to give up Nox now. "My father bought my familiar for me. I thought Nox was just a Kneazle before now."

"Ah…" The wizard seemed absently thoughtful at his student's words. Then he nodded understandingly and relented, "You have chosen your familiar already; there is no changing what has already been done. So long as you had not intended to purposefully break one of our set rules I suppose I find no harm in allowing you to keep your familiar here."

Vlad allowed a touch of relief course through him, but kept his face carefully composed. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me."

The professor nodded again – a little absently – with his eyes focused back upon Vlad's face. The vampire stood quietly for some form of dismissal, some indication that he could leave. But when none came, he awkwardly shuffled a little in place. Just when Vlad had decided perhaps departing was the best option, the headmaster said, "You are a very interesting person, Mr. Dracula."

Vlad froze at those words; they hardly seemed to bode well. The only other person who ever referred to him as 'interesting' was the Bloody Baron and Vlad hoped with all his might that the headmaster had not figured out he was a vampire. "Why do you say that, sir?"

"All students are interesting, young man. But you are perhaps one of the few students in history who is capable of wandless magic at so young an age. Have you had any previous training?"

A slight breath of relief left Vlad's lips. So that was it. He could do this. He was used to this. He knew by now that his magical ability was something worth noting in the wizards' world. "I'm not so sure, Professor. It's just more…natural to me."

"Remarkable. Did Ollivander not find a matching wand for you, then?"

"Ollivanders?" A look of clear confusion flickered across Vlad's face. Who was that? Was he supposed to know a person by that name?

"You should have met him when getting your wand," the headmaster supplied. "Surely you saw his shop when passing through Diagon Alley."

Okay, swallow, breathe. Vlad couldn't just tell a wizard – immensely powerful or not – that he hadn't actually gone to the Alley and had instead visited a vampire market for his supplies before school began. That would sound farfetched at best and revealing at the worst. He could do this, lie to the headmaster. Even if his heart was racing and his hands threatened to tremble under the man's gaze, Vlad knew he  _had_  to pull this off. "Oh, the wand maker? We never went to his place. My family and I just believed that I wouldn't need a wand."

"Really? Did your family not just presume it was accidental magic?"

Vlad fought to keep his composure. He had forgotten about that particular tidbit. What else could he say? "Sir, my family knows magic relatively well and they told me that I was already using the magic well enough. I was able to actually control it, you see."

The old wizard was quiet for only the briefest of moments before he was smiling again. "That is absolutely fascinating, Mr. Dracula. You must be very talented to have been recognized so early. And very brave; I received a message from Hagrid just before you came detailing your detention and it was very noble of you to stay with Mr. Potter when he fell." The professor seemed to go quiet again afterward, which Vlad began to take as a dismissal. But then he continued, "Just humor me one last time before you go. Tell me, how are you liking Hogwarts so far?"

Vlad blinked at the placidity of the question. It seemed merely curious and he relaxed. "Oh, it is wonderful here, sir. I really enjoy it."

The man nodded once more with a gentle smile upon his face, this time granting the young vampire permission to depart.

~0~

Vlad was not exactly startled to find Draco waiting for him alone in the Common Room with silencing spells and certain misdirecting wards blocking all of the entrances. The silencing spells were a few years of education away yet and the wards even more so. But the young vampire only raised an eyebrow at the display of magic and seated himself on one of the armchairs across from Draco's own seat. Nox trailed him, settling at his feet like a gigantic cat sleepily dozing.

"Don't be so surprised," Draco mused sarcastically. "You've seen what I can do with the troll. I've only learned a few spells from the later years but I've learned the ones my family thought I would need. And what do you know? I do need them."

Vlad sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, if this is about the mirror again –"

"Don't insult me," the Malfoy heir interrupted. "I said I would let it go and I did. Don't bring it up again unless you have to." He laid his chin upon the knuckles of one of his hands and peered at Vlad as if he was trying to dissect an unknown creature. "You never told me what happened during Halloween when you saved me."

Vlad was a little taken aback. It was just so sudden to have that topic brought up again. He had been hoping that it had fallen to the wayside, but he should have known better. This particular Malfoy owed him a Life Debt still. Of course Draco wouldn't forget about it. And maybe it was because it was the dead of the night or maybe it was because he wanted to actually tell somebody or maybe it was because he had just nearly died again, but Vlad abruptly decided to tell his Housemate a portion of the truth. He hoped it wasn't a trick of the light, but he thought he saw just sincere curiosity in Draco's eyes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"I didn't really know what I had done," Vlad said before his mind could rationalize him out of it. "At the time, I was just panicked. It was a lot like accidental magic. The troll was about to kill us both and…well, I told it to go away."

The blonde merely blinked. "You told it to go away."

"I hypnotized it. I just looked at it in the eyes and then it obeyed me."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Draco pursed his lips and straightened in his seat. "I expected it to be far more climactic."

Vlad laughed in both relief and apprehension. You could never know whether that was a good or bad thing in the Malfoy world. "I told you before: I didn't really do much and you don't really owe me much."

"My magic thinks otherwise," the Malfoy heir replied. "Can you still do it? Hypnotize people just by looking at them?"

"No," Vlad lied, the words coming off his tongue like melted butter. It made him feel sick how often he was beginning to find himself twisting the truth. "No, I can't. It was just a one time thing only."

Draco eyed him as if he knew that the vampire was lying, but then he shrugged in acquiesce. Then he did another roundabout, saying, "Most people don't trust my family."

Vlad decided it would be wisest not to say anything about that.

"They think we're Death Eaters. They think my father was one of the Dark Lord's followers back in the day." Draco leaned forward, his arms braced on his knees. "Don't pretend you haven't heard the rumors. What do you think?"

The blonde had already made it clear what the answer truly was. If the Malfoys weren't a Dark family and devoted to the Dark Lord, then Vlad would eat his cloak. It was too obvious not to come to that conclusion, especially since he had actually spent time in the family's company. There was something about them and almost all the rest of Slytherin House that set them apart from the rest of the wizards and witches Vlad had met. Whether it was for better or for worse…he wasn't so sure yet. After all, vampires were inherently evil creatures, even by their own definition. But Vlad had seen firsthand that there was no such thing as solid good or evil.

"I think you shouldn't make yourself a part of a set. I think  _you_  should decide whether that's true or not, Draco, because I'm not so sure you know yourself," the vampire said honestly. He was too much a coward to say anything else, for fear that he might push away the only other student who would associate with him this freely.

"I won't ask any more questions, Vlad," the blonde finally replied. "You're too weird for your own good. And if I told everybody the strange sort of things you get yourself into, I'd probably end up looking like a madman. So maybe you can start talking a little more…and you won't have to worry so much about my telling about it."

It made Vlad smile a little at the roundabout way Draco had said he would be willing to keep secrets for him. He couldn't exactly trust the Malfoy heir completely yet; it would be a while before anybody would find out about his vampire heritage, if ever. But something about Draco's indirect promise made him feel like that "if ever" was less likely.

"Why?" Vlad asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If I don't, you just might end up doing something stupid like following me after hours again."

~0~

It just had to be the day before exams that Vlad heard Harry say, "We have no choice. He's going after the Stone tonight."

And the vampire didn't need to be told who "he" was. It had just been so close to the end of the year that Vlad had been hoping that Quirrell would stall. But apparently he didn't have that much time. To make things worse, the headmaster was absent. From what Vlad had heard, the man had left the day after his audience with him. The timing couldn't have been worse.

Common sense told Vlad to leave it be. If the trio wanted to go after the Stone, then he should let them do it and have them deal with the consequences. They were crazy to think they could stop a grown wizard. What could they do? Cast a tickling charm and make Quirrell laugh long enough to stop?

Following them would be a bad idea. Just as crazy. He couldn't do anything to help the three much. Vlad had been tempted to tell Draco, but the blonde had been a little more than stressed the last few days preparing for the exams and the vampire doubted the Malfoy heir would appreciate the distraction.

Don't do it, his mind told him. It wouldn't do you any good. It would be worse than Draco going to tell McGonagall about the dragon egg exchange.

That night, as he crept out of the Slytherin dorms (feeling horribly hypocritical), he wondered whether he should make a career of outdoing Draco.

* * *

**Hmm...nearly done with Vlad's first year. And yes, I will be articulating his summers. :) It's a fabulous time to introduce more key characters. The summers are actually probably (and arguably) the more important arcs I will be covering. It's when he's around his family more often. You didn't think I'd just leave out his family (and other vampires) and the TV show's episodes, did you?**

**Eh. This was more a filler chapter than anything else.**

**Till next time!**


	16. Outdoing Draco

**I do not own anything that could get me sued.**

**Thank you again to my reviewers! They always spur me on and encourage me to write more. :)**

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**Chapter 16: Outdoing Draco**

It was if the very castle itself could sense that something was wrong in the air. The stones were colder, more obsolete than they normally were. The chill pervading the evening air seemed to coalesce into a solid mist of  _freezing_  and the entire structure was eerily still. If Vlad didn't know better, he would have thought he was the only living soul in the vicinity. As he crept down the hall, his very breath seemed magnified in the silence and every step he took made him cringe slightly.

He was used to the dark; it was when his family was most active. Perhaps one of the few benefits of being the child of vampires was that he had been raised to believe the night his domain, something that he shouldn't fear. Vlad had never been afraid of the dark and while he was no stranger to apprehension, he never actually worried about whether monsters or other creatures would creep up on him. The creatures of nightmares  _were_  his family and family acquaintances.

Yet this different. Vlad's eyes searched the darkness with an actual fear; every movement or imagined shadow was Quirrell. He wasn't positive, but he was fairly sure that the creature he had seen during detention was his Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Why or how his professor had laid hands upon the unicorns were beyond Vlad, but he knew nothing else that would commit such a terrible crime.

Vlad tried to not dwell on such thoughts for too long. They set his nerves on edge – at least more than they already were – and it just served as more fodder towards his "reasons to turn back." He was a little discomfited by the fact that he had yet to cross another soul in the castle. Not even Mrs. Norris had made an appearance yet, and the cat had an uncanny knack for hunting him out. It was too easy, but by the time he found himself in front of the door on the Third Floor, Vlad figured that fate probably supported his impending doom.

His hand gently pushed open the wooden door, not at all surprised that it was already open and expecting the sight of a sleeping dog in front of him. He had left relatively late in the night, after all, and he was sure that Quirrell had already had a head start. What he didn't expect to see was a very familiar Invisibility Cloak strewn across the floor.

Of course. Of course the three Gryffindors were already here. Vlad sighed but continued on, picking up the Cloak to fold and tuck into his robe pocket. Normally, he would be turning heel and running away at the sight of a three-headed creature like that. But he had been expecting it. Whatever lie ahead, though, he had to deal with himself.

Bats, he had to be crazy. Was crazy an inherited trait?

Vlad opened the trapdoor and peered inside, hoping to see something he could land on. Snapping his fingers, a small ball of light appeared floating beside his hand. He ushered the light further down and his eyes widened when he saw the plant below, breaking the fall. It looked very familiar, something he had heard Neville gushing over during the last few weeks…Devil's Snare? If he remembered correctly, then fire would loosen its death grip. The young vampire groaned, wondering again why he was doing this, before jumping down.

The plant was a surprisingly soft material to fall on. He sat reluctant to move, but when the tendrils of the Snare began to inch towards him, Vlad snapped his fingers again to ignite the surrounding green. Immediately, the magical plant shrunk away and the young vampire let out a short yelp as he plummeted a little further. He landed heavily on feet and blinked a little to get his bearings. Above him was the plant and he was currently standing in a corridor leading to a door at the opposite end.

Fantastic. What was this, an obstacle course?

Vlad trudged further inside and opened the door to look into the next room. He actually groaned aloud when he saw a veritable storm of flying  _keys_  (of all things!). It was more than clear what he would have to do in order to open the next door; one broom lay fallen on the floor and he curiously looked at the few keys that seemed to have lodged themselves in the wall. Maybe that was a side effect of picking up the broom. Lethal flying keys would then begin aiming for your head. Wonderful.

Vlad wondered briefly whether a summoning spell would work, but he realized that whoever created these defenses – as strange as they were – would probably be smarter than that and he didn't exactly know how to perform that spell properly yet anyway. He approached the broom with slight trepidation and glanced uneasily up at the fluttering keys. They were placid now, but he dreaded what would happen should he touch the broom.

He couldn't do this. This was a stupid idea. Maybe the Devil's Snare was okay and even the gigantic dog. But he couldn't even hypnotize these keys and he couldn't fly for his life. Of all the things to be absolute pants at!

The vampire stood pondering for a while before a solution dawned upon him. If he could just get all the keys lodged into some solid surface he could reach…

Before his courage could desert him, Vlad grabbed the broom handle and automatically began running. His prediction about lethal keys didn't disappoint; all of them had turned towards him and were shooting at him like angry, metal bees. He felt a little silly when a strangled yelp escaped his lips at the sight behind him before he firmly set his teeth. He could do this. He could.

Gathering all of the nerve he could, Vlad came to a screeching halt in a corner of the room. He waited. One second…two seconds…now!

He leapt to the side as a flurry of the keys went slamming into the floor and wall. Most of them were futilely stuck but a few had been far enough behind to keep their pursuit and a scant others and slammed into Vlad himself. He grimaced at the pain they caused but they were small cuts at best. So long as he didn't get  _all_  of them slamming into him, he would be okay.

He repeated the action two more times before all of the keys were struggling feebly in their positions. While the sight was more comforting, Vlad was smart enough to know that they would worm their way free eventually. He hurriedly scanned them all, searching for the one key that would match the doorknob material and have the wings crumpled from previous use.

He found the old, brass key just in time. The first of the keys were beginning to free themselves and Vlad hastily opened the door and slammed it behind him, wincing at the sound of a few more keys slamming into the entrance behind him. He was just glad that it wasn't his head that had been there instead.

Turning his attention to the newest room, Vlad groaned aloud again. Really, a chess game? He had seen Wizard's Chess. His dorm mates played often enough for him to know how complicated and violent it could get. Those chess pieces had serious attitude enchanted into them and he had a feeling that violence would be emphasized in this particular game.

His breath caught when he saw a certain redhead sprawled on the floor of the chessboard. Ron must have been hurt somehow as the three had passed through and now he was out cold. A part of Vlad wanted to go and help him. But a greater part of him pushed on and he turned away with a firm line to his mouth. If Harry and Hermione had thought it okay to leave Ron to himself for now, then he must not be too bad. Vlad didn't know enough healing to help much. Now he had to worry if the chess pieces would hurt him enough to knock him unconscious like it had done the Gryffindor.

But looking closer, a feeling of relief blossomed through his chest. There had been only two sets of pieces and apparently the three Gryffindors had already played through and so had Quirrell. Which meant that Vlad didn't have to play with so few pieces left intact to utilize. The vampire approached the enormous board cautiously and flicked his eyes in every direction, watching for some chess piece set on attacking him. When nothing happened, he made a mad dash across to the other side and relaxed when he safely had his hand on the doorknob to the next room. He let out a soft breath, believing he was clear.

Until a chunk of white chess piece slammed viciously into the wall just a few inches away from his head.

Vlad shouted in alarm and didn't wait around to see whoever or whatever had thrown to maim. He threw open the door in front of him and once again slammed the door behind him to hear a solid thunk. His chest heaved at yet another close call and it took him a few moments to gather himself and look up.

The smell was the first thing that told him what was in the room. His mind flashed back to Halloween night and he steeled himself for another troll to defeat. He wouldn't hesitate to use his hypnotism this time. He knew what to do now.

But his resolve dissolved when he saw that the troll in the room was in fact unmoving and undoubtedly dead. Its rotting flesh made Vlad gag and he tried not to look at the gore of the thing's skull caved in upon itself. He ran past it, his eyes averted and prepared to open the door to the next room.

Vlad hesitated, though, when he heard voices. He slowly leaned his head against the wood and listened at the indecipherable words beyond. It sounded like the two still-functional Gryffindors and a combination of relief and worry engulfed him. It seemed like they weren't yet with Quirrell and that meant they were still safe. But that also meant the professor was further ahead and quite possibly already in possession of the Stone.

Yet something stilled Vlad's hand. He stood, unmoving. If he opened the door, then he would be revealing himself to the Gryffindors. And he had no idea how they would take it. Would they believe he was on Quirrell's side? Would they think he was here to steal the Stone? Surely, he could explain to them. But then…then he would be  _noticed_. If they all left tonight alive and well, then he would be included in the story that they would have to report to the professors and then whatever precarious normalcy Vlad had achieved here would be gone. He had no doubt that the teachers would remember this, and he would become something to watch.

And he didn't want that. He was already insane to be down here. Hadn't he just wanted a normal school year with other normal kids his age?

He should have known being with wizards would only be marginally less strange than being with his vampire family.

Yet he liked it, this strange sort of normal. People here accepted him in their own way and he was good at what he did, good at the classes he took. He saw a future here and a chance to escape his vampire heritage. Vlad didn't want to give that up. And Draco was beginning to come around. Maybe a few nudges here and there would improve the blonde, but the Malfoy heir was as close a friend the vampire had ever made in his entire eleven years of life.

The only way to preserve the way he was living now was to somehow continue the rest of the way unnoticed. Leave this place alive without being implicated in the retelling of the evening's events.

Fingering the Invisibility Cloak he had picked up, Vlad thought that maybe fate was more forgiving than he had thought. His mind made up, the vampire took out the Cloak and pulled it on, making sure his entire body was out of view. Then, armed with anonymity, he gingerly opened the door to the next room.

He made sure to do it as quietly as possible, slipping inside with only a whisper of his footfalls to indicate that he was there. Vlad listened to their voices, just waiting for them to pause midsentence and see the door mysteriously opening by itself. But the two continued talking, their backs to the entrance and completely occupied by whatever was laid before them. Vlad silently closed the door behind him and cautiously approached the duo to see what they were investigating. Glancing back, he was startled to see purple flames blocking the way back and looked with a little panic at the black flames blocking the way forward. How he had passed through the purple flame was beyond him, but he doubted that going back would be as easy as it had been coming in.

Hermione was reading a piece of paper several times in front of a long table with an array of potion flasks in front of her, her eyes roaming the page over and over again. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. Vlad had no idea how long she had been doing that, but at last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone."

Vlad glanced at the bottle and frowned. There was hardly another swallow left.

Harry voiced the same observation a moment later and the Gryffindors found themselves looking at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?" Harry asked. Watching Hermione point towards a rounded bottle at the end of the line, the boy said, "You drink that." The other two were clearly about to protest, but Harry continued, "No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore; we need him. I might be able to hold off Snape for a while, but I'm really no match for him."

Oh, for the love of garlic. They  _still_ thought Professor Snape was the one responsible. In Vlad's mind, he had no idea how they were still dead-set on that idea but he could hardly correct them now. And was Harry trying to get himself killed? There was no chance that the First Year wizard would last even a second against a fully trained one. Vlad knew he wouldn't last, and while he wasn't trying to be arrogant, he knew he could perform more spells than Harry could. The vampire looked helplessly at the two and wondered which he should follow. If he left now, he might be able to get to the owlery before Hermione to bring Dumbledore faster. But a greater part of him told him that Harry would benefit from help in the next room.

There was just the problem of the flames.

Meanwhile, Hermione had enveloped Harry in a fierce hug. Her voice was soft because her face was buried in her friend's shoulder. "Harry, what are you going to do if You-Know-Who is with Snape?"

What? Voldemort? The Dark Lord? But wasn't he dead? Vlad felt like a heavy stone had settled in his stomach. This was far more than it looked, wasn't it? What had he gotten himself into?

"I've been lucky before," Harry replied sheepishly in an attempt to placate his friend. "I'll be okay."

"You're a great wizard, Harry."

The Boy-Who-Lived flushed. "I'm not as good as you."

"Oh! Books and cleverness! There are more important things in life…and, Harry, be careful, okay?"

It made Vlad a little sad to watch. Something within him ached to have somebody just as willing to offer that same support, that same care for him.

"You drink yours first," Harry said.

Hermione gave Harry's emerald eyes one last searching look before she went to grasp the bottle and swallowed its contents. She shivered at the sensation and murmured, "It's cold."

"Quick, go before it wears off!"

The girl bit her lip and seemed on the verge of staying. But her resolve solidified and she turned on her heel and safely exited back the way she had originally come.

It was only Harry and Vlad now. The vampire watched silently as the Gryffindor sighed and slowly grasped the small bottle. Vlad could see how Harry's hands trembled the slightest bit, but the boy didn't hesitate as he swallowed the last of the potion. A trace of respect lingered on the vampire's tongue at the pure courage Harry displayed and his eyes followed the other's form exit the room into the next.

Now completely alone, Vlad stepped forward and fingered the now-empty bottle allowing passage forward. He wondered what he was supposed to do now. Just leave? Surely those black flames would hurt him should he try to go through them.

But…something akin to recognition tickled the corners of Vlad's mind as he stared at the flames. He had seen them before. A long time ago.

Then it came to him. When he had been far younger – perhaps six or seven – and a little more open to the option of becoming a vampire, his father had enthusiastically showed his son the different flames a vampire could create. There was a great variety, something for almost every color. But the one that stood out most in his mind now was the lethal black flame his father had showed him last.

"Be careful with this one, Vladdy," his father had chuckled. "This one can burn through anything and wants to burn everything. At least…anything that's not a vampire. If you just concentrate enough, you can make them just tickle. Try it, Vladdy!"

And he had. For the briefest of moments, his small childlike hands had just hovered in the flames unharmed.

It had been years, but Vlad hoped that if he just did the same now, he could pass through. If it didn't work, then he hoped that his father had a coffin ready for him back home. It would be a quick death.

Vlad slowly approached the flames and ever so cautiously placed one hand at the edge of the flames. He felt nothing and when that reassured him, he pushed further until his whole body was following. He wasn't burning and only the faintest of tickling sensations encompassed his body. For a moment he could see nothing but dark fire. Then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

* * *

**I thought for sure Year One would go past 20 chapters but I guess I'll just go with it.**

**Parts of this ARE from the Sorcerer's Stone. Don't sue me. Please. I know I don't own the stuff.**

**And next chapter is hopefully the climax!**

**Till next time!**


	17. Mirror, Mirror

**I do not own anything that will get me sued.**

**Thank you to my reviewers! Those comments (and my general desire to write) keep me going :)**

**And um, I think it gets a little more dark/graphic/whatever you want to call it in this chapter than it has been in the last few chapters. Sort of. Depends on your definition of it. So...warning?**

* * *

**Chapter 17: Mirror, Mirror**

If Vlad wanted to be perfectly honest, he would admit that he had an irrational urge to run forward and shout, "I told you so!"

Because really, seeing Harry staring dumbfounded at Quirrell was no surprise at all to him. It was almost a relief because it meant that he had been correct and that his Head of House was, in fact, innocent of all charges the Gryffindors had accused him with. Vlad didn't particularly like nor dislike Professor Snape, but he was willing to admit that the man was not the type to actively aim for his personal wealth and immortality through a rock.

"But…Snape tried to kill me!" Harry exclaimed, already in the middle of an exchange with the professor in front of him.

"No, you stupid child. I tried to kill you. If only your companion, Hermione Granger, hadn't interfered! I'd have managed even better if Snape wasn't trying to mutter a countercurse under his breath to save you."

Vlad allowed himself a smug smile despite the fact that he was now probably trapped in a room with a lethal older wizard out to commit a robbery. Professor Snape had been trying to  _save_  Harry. That placed the Potions Master in higher regard within Vlad's mind.

But he didn't have the luxury of pondering too much upon it because the next moment, Quirrell was snapping his fingers and ropes were trapping Harry in a choking hold. The Gryffindor gasped as he faltered and lost his balance, falling heavily on the floor. Vlad stared a little wide-eyed at the professor's clear display of wandless magic – with a snap, no less! – but he scrambled forward a little bit in hopes of helping Harry.

Vlad thanked whatever deities existed out there that Quirrell was not one for stereotypical evil villain theatrics. After binding Harry, the man swiftly turned back to the large mirror – the only object in the entire room. His mind was intently focusing upon the task before him and while Vlad had no idea how the man was going to find a near-legendary stone in a mirror of all things, he was just glad the professor was momentarily distracted.

He was a hairsbreadth away from Harry's form when Quirrell's voice froze him in place. "The mirror is the key to finding the Stone," he murmured, scanning the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this…"

"I saw you and Snape in the forest –" Harry blurted desperately and Vlad wanted to slap a hand over the Gryffindor's mouth. This wasn't helping the vampire's impression that Harry was suicidal.

"Yes, yes," Quirrell said absentmindedly. But his gaze was completely solidified hungrily upon the mirror. "I see myself holding the Stone and presenting it to my master…but why can I not obtain it!"

Vlad hastily turned towards Harry, begging him beneath his invisibility to not reply.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," Quirrell said casually. "Heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, did you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

The mention of Harry's father caught the Gryffindor's attention and Vlad didn't miss the slight flicker of hunger at that brief commentary. A wave of pity overcame the vampire for a moment; he could only imagine how difficult it must have been to grow up without parents. He had grown up with one missing and that alone was difficult. But that pity quickly died away when Harry opened his mouth yet again.

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing. I thought Snape was threatening you…"

For the first time, fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions. He is a great wizard and I am weak…and he can be very displeased when I do not perform to his expectations."

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.

Please, please, please shut up, Vlad thought. You can't keep on provoking the crazy wizard!

"He is with me wherever I go," Quirrell whispered hoarsely. "I met him during my travels around the world. I was foolish then. Lord Voldemort showed me that there is no good and evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." The man shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive easily. After I failed to obtain the Stone at Gringotts, he punished me and decided to keep a closer watch on me…" Quirrell's voice trialed away as if he had abruptly lost interest in his tale. His gaze was back on the mirror as he cursed under his breath. "I don't understand. Is the Stone  _inside_  the mirror?"

The mirror…Vlad was almost afraid to look. His last experience with one had not been a good one. Glancing at the golden frame of this one, he examined it, trying to figure out the puzzle. But the closer and longer he looked, a sense of dread collected in his chest because the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

This mirror was exactly the same as the one in Malfoy Manor.

But it wasn't quite the same, upon another glance. The strange words adorning the top of the frame were different and this one seemed to have a less aged look to it as if it had spent far less time in a dusty treasury. Vlad averted his eyes and desperately told himself not to look in the mirror. What if this time it was worse?

Harry was beginning to try and inch forwards without Quirrell's noticing, but the ropes were too tight and the older wizard's next words froze both boys – invisible and visible – in place again.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to both Vlad's and Harry's horror, a voice answered. A voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. "Use the boy…"

The professor rounded on the Gryffindor. "Boy, come here."

Vlad made a desperate grab for Harry, but Quirrell had already summoned the Gryffindor's struggling form and had that small body shoved in front of the mirror.

"Tell me what you see," Quirrell breathed.

And then Vlad made the mistake of looking in the mirror. While lunging for Harry, he had involuntarily landed on his hands and knees at the perfect angle to see the mirror's gleaming surface. Once his eyes had locked upon it, he found that he couldn't quite look away like before and a panic began to surface within him.

But then he began to see the image the mirror was showing him and panic gave way to astonishment.

He was walking out of a simple home, one that was neatly painted several different hues of brown and the occasional white. There was no ominous mansion complete with a withering garden at the front and hovering clouds in the sky. No, this house was perfectly normal amongst its neighbors and even the bright hue of blue pervaded the atmosphere above. He was stepping out on to the stone steps leading to the street outside and his mouth almost fell open when he saw his sister – dressed in a bright white garb no less! – bound out behind him and smile. She seemed, for the entire world, happy to see him and then she turned to wave goodbye to his parents who were standing arm in arm and smiling right back like a normal couple. None of them had fangs or wore oppressive cloaks. They were all dressed in something a normal family would wear every day and the neighbors were grinning and greeting them (was that Draco giving him a high-five?) as the day started.

Vlad had never seen something so wondrously incredible before. It was everything he had ever wanted, everything he could possibly ask for. There it was, displayed before him in perfect replication of his greatest dreams. His heart ached so badly for it that he wanted to sob at the sight.

_It's not real._

Vlad choked quietly to himself at those words, said by the exact same voice that had spoken to him at Draco's Christmas party.

_It's just an image. Nothing is ever as perfect as you want it to be._

The only thing that kept Vlad from screaming aloud was the fact that Quirrell was still well and alive – in perfect condition to still hurt both him and Harry.

_This isn't real. Focus. There are more important things at hand…_

Vlad couldn't believe that he was actually listening to the voice, but it had a point. That was just a mirror image. Just like the one on Christmas had been. He couldn't dwell on it, not with danger still so very real. So he closed off his heart for a moment as he wrenched his eyes away from his dream personified and turned to look at Harry.

The Gryffindor was still poised in front of the mirror, staring in panic and worry at the mirror. Vlad had no idea what Harry was seeing, but he hoped that it was good enough to appease Quirrell. He was looking closely when Harry's eyes widened just the smallest bit and he noted how the other boy's hand twitched minutely towards his left pocket.

Please don't let that be what I think it is…

"Well?" Quirrell demanded. "What do you see?"

"I-I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry stuttered. "I've just won the House Cup for Gryffindor…"

The professor cursed again under his breath and moved to shove the boy to the side when the disembodied voice spoke again.

"He lies…allow me to speak to him…"

Quirrell seemed prepared to protest, but a flicker of pain lanced across the man's face and he meekly obeyed within the next moment, reaching up towards his turban. Both Harry and Vlad stood rooted in place as the layers swathing the man's skull slowly fell away. And when it was completely gone and Quirrell had turned around, the two of them were petrified at the sight.

Vlad would have screamed if he could have and he felt bile coat the back of his tongue. Where there should have been the back of Quirrell's head was a monstrous, chalk-white face – almost inhuman in structure.

"Harry Potter," it whispered. "See what you have forced me to become? I am now nothing more than a wraith…but I  _have_  survived and I will need what you have in your pocket to become whole again…"

Harry began to stumble backwards and Vlad jumped to the side, nearly colliding with the Gryffindor's body at the sudden move.

"Don't be a fool," the thing hissed. "Join me…I can bring your parents back to you…"

"Liar!" Harry shouted. "You're a liar!" And his voice was so agonizingly desperate that Vlad felt that pity again.

"I can bring them back…I had no choice, Harry…war is war and your parents knew what they were risking when they chose a side…"

"You killed them! You took them away from me!"

"Just give me the Stone, Harry, and I can fix everything…"

Vlad felt sick. The monster – Voldemort – was torturing Harry in one of the few ways that would truly affect the Gryffindor. Harry was strong but he was only a child who had lost his parents at a very young age. And like all orphans who had never known their parents, it was probably the single thing Harry wished for: a family. It was as if Voldemort was stabbing the metaphorical knife in every emotional wound Harry had ever had.

"Join me…"

In a flurry of emotion, Harry screamed, "Never!" And then he was running for the flaming exit a moment later.

Vlad jolted into motion, dashing after Harry. But Quirrell got there first and before the vampire had a chance to blink, the monster had knocked the Gryffindor unconscious with a spell.

No, no, no, no. Complete horror was enveloping Vlad's mind. He couldn't let Quirrell get to the Stone. He couldn't let Voldemort have it. He had finally found his place here in the Wizarding World and he was hardly going to have it go to ruins because a Dark Lord had somehow survived a killing curse to inhabit the back of his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's head.

Vlad scrambled as fast as he could to Harry's unmoving form as Quirrell began to examine the boy's body and plunged his hand into the Gryffindor's left pocket. His fingers grasped the rough edges of a stone and he quickly withdrew before Voldemort or Quirrell noticed he was there. He was just thanking every spirit and deity out there that he had the Invisibility Cloak on.

As the professor searched Harry's pockets and found nothing, his frustration mounting, Vlad clutched the Stone to his chest and pushed himself against the nearest wall, trying to flatten himself as far as he could. As the minutes ticked and it became clear that there was nothing to find, Quirrell gasped out, "Master, I cannot find it!"

"Fool!" the thing spat. "It is here! I can sense it! Find it!"

And search Quirrell did. Even Vlad could tell that Voldemort was becoming more and more enraged by the second and when probing Harry, the mirror, and even the bare surrounding vicinity gave the man nothing, he quietly and fearfully whispered, "Master…it is not here."

Vlad watched in terror as Quirrell let out an inhuman scream of agony and collapsed to the floor, writhing in his torture. The man scrabbled desperately at his face, clawing at it like it was burning and Vlad let out a terrified gasp as blood began to seep from the man's eyes and his nails dug deep enough to bring forth crimson liquid. Quirrell's legs began to twist at unnatural angles and when one of them let out a horrible, audible snap, Vlad felt the beginnings of tears coalesce at the corners of his eyes.

And almost as quickly as it had begun, it all stopped and Voldemort's chilling voice breathed, "You have failed me, Quirrell. You are useless to me now. Dumbledore comes as I speak and I shall leave you here as you deserve."

A black cloud formed where the back of Quirrell's head was and it formulated into a grotesque image of a face so decimated that Vlad could only make out the framings of a skull.

"I know you're here," the Dark Lord purred. "I know you have the Stone." And then what seemed to be the apparition's eyes abruptly locked on the exact place Vlad was standing.

Before the vampire could so much as hitch his breath in fear, the door to the room slammed open and whatever had been Lord Voldemort disappeared in the blink of an eye.

As Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape came running into the room, Vlad didn't let himself relax. His mind was numb from what had just happened and he was trying with everything he had not to look at Quirrell's destroyed body. The man was undoubtedly alive, but whether he would stay that way remained to be seen.

The child part of Vlad's brain told him to take off the Cloak and go running to the two professors that had just entered. They were here now. He was safe and wasn't it their job to take of these things? Giving them the Stone to care for made the most sense.

But then that would destroy whatever anonymity Vlad had created for himself and in the worst-case scenario, they would think he had done all of this. There was nothing proving otherwise; he was the only one who had been here the entire time in the room still conscious. What would they think?

_Don't show yourself. Keep the Stone…_

Vlad wanted to cry, scream, and yell. He didn't want whatever was in his head to be there and he hadn't wanted to see everything he had just did. But his desire for normalcy stayed his tongue and he quietly glanced down at the Stone still securely in his hands. The blood red hue of the coveted jewel glimmered up at him before he closed his hands around it and tucked it into one of his pockets.

Then he turned on his heel and left the room with the Cloak still keeping him out of sight.

~0~

Exams were canceled the following day. It was one of the small mercies in Vlad's life because he was fairly sure that he would have failed them. Instead, a great feast was held and the subsequent naming of the House Cup rallied the entire student body into a frenzy. His House was outraged when the headmaster rewarded Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron for their part in last night's escapade and the Gryffindors were predictably elated with their last-minute victory. The entire hype was infectious and whatever trauma or fear the three Gryffindors had experienced seemed to fly out the window during the Farewell Feast.

But Vlad could not have been less affected by it all. He couldn't quite bring himself to eat very much or smile very much or talk very much and when his House erupted in arguments and heated insults at the naming of the House Cup, Vlad only stared listlessly at his plate.

The images and the guilt tore at him. He couldn't erase Quirrell's torture or the hideous sight of a parasite on the back of a skull out of his mind and the fact that the Invisibility Cloak and Philosopher's Stone were currently tucked away in the corner of his trunk made him want to vomit. The Stone wasn't his. He hadn't meant to keep it. But what was he going to do? He couldn't just walk up and give it back to the headmaster and if he just left it for somebody to discover, who knew what sort of hands it would end up in? Vlad had grown to hate the thing in the few hours he had it because he could not figure out a way to get rid of it.

As everybody filed into the Hogwarts Express later and the trio gave Hagrid a gigantic goodbye hug, Vlad turned away and hastily found himself an empty compartment before locking the door behind him. He shoved his trunk into the hanger and threw himself into one of the seats.

A moment later, the telltale mutter of "Alohamora" and the flash of blonde hair had Draco shoving his way in before the door was locked once again. Vlad didn't bother looking at the other boy. He just couldn't, not with everything clouding and weighing upon his mind at the moment.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked when he had finally settled himself into the opposite seat.

"Nothing."

"I'm not stupid, Vlad. Something is wrong."

The vampire let out a small breath and leaned slightly further into his seat as the train jolted forward to begin its path home. "There's nothing."

Vlad gasped a second later as Draco fiercely gripped his arm and forced the vampire to look at him in the eye. "I'm. Not. Stupid. What's wrong?"

Vlad just stared into the grey hue of the Malfoy heir's eyes for the longest time before he finally smiled just the slightest bit and murmured, "Aw…you're worried about me."

That had Draco flustered like nothing else. "Wha- no! Excuse me, I'm just merely making an observation!"

The young vampire just continued to grin, his smile only getting wider and his eyes clearer. "You were worried."

"I was not!"

As the two of them fell into their respective arguments about whether it was true or not, Vlad allowed himself to relax just the slightest bit. Perhaps this wasn't exactly what he had been expecting or looking for when he had signed up for a magical school. But honestly, with Draco spluttering about the importance of keen observation and the general clamor of the students outside, Vlad found that he might not want it any other way. All of them (witches and wizards for bat's sake!) were far from normal, but maybe – just maybe – he could work with this.

And he didn't need a magical mirror to tell him that.

**End of Year One**

* * *

**Well, honestly I think 17 chapters is a little short for one school year but I guess that's where I am. So there it is: Vlad's first year at Hogwarts! I did make some rather large changes in the HP plot; you can probably tell where!**

**Just to clarify, I will be writing the next six years as well and the summers in between. So this is far from the conclusion of this story.**

**As I progress through the years, the overall tone of this will turn decidedly more serious and less lighthearted so to speak. It isn't going to be exactly pretty. How can it be when the general Harry Potter series goes that way as the books progress? It's pretty much the same thing in the Young Dracula series too. The deviation from the HP series will begin to happen (obviously) in more and more noticeable ways as well. Just a heads up!**

**For those of you wanting to see Vlad's vampire side, you might have to wait a little longer. It will definitely surface earlier than in the TV series though so don't worry too much about it.**

**Anways, here's to Vlad's upcoming summer!**

**Till next time!**


	18. Stokely

**Chapter 18: Stokely**

"Are we there yet?"

"Oh, Master, I'm not quite –"

"For bat's sake…!"

Vlad sighed to himself and ran a hand across his face. After the Hogwarts Express had come to a stop at the station in London and he had said his goodbyes to Draco, he had been pleasantly surprised to see not only his father, but his sister and Renfield were also waiting. His father had a pair of sunglasses on and he was carefully avoiding the sunlight filtering through the station's windows, but that was to be expected considering it was daytime. Vlad had been happy to see that all three of them had come to greet him and he had excitedly told them so.

But, of course, his sister had scathingly told him that this had nothing to do with welcoming him and everything to do with their father's crazy decisions. Apparently, the Count had decided that living in Transylvania was too far from Vlad's school. So he had gone and bought an entirely new mansion in Scotland to live in while his son attended Hogwarts.

It was one of those things that Vlad almost expected from his father. Who else would be crazy enough to just uproot everything in order to keep an eye on his son? In a way, it made Vlad feel comforted that his father wanted to be near him badly enough to do such a thing, but it was also the current cause of his headache.

Because for all of his father's "impeccable ability to travel", they were currently lost in their new hometown of Stokely.

"Renfield, I think the sunlight is beginning to seep through the curtains back here. Can't you drive any faster?"

"I'm trying, Master!" their servant flustered. "It's just...this map makes no sense!"

The Count peeked his head out of the back of the car where it had been specifically designed for any vampire incapable of traveling via daylight. He glanced at the map in an effort to gain some sense of where they were, but the sun's rays had him quickly retreating. "Just…figure it out, Renfield!"

Ingrid groaned aloud and snarled to herself. "Why am I stuck with this pathetic excuse for a family?"

Everybody was being less than helpful, so Vlad finally forced himself to look at the map Renfield was holding and tried to assist the mortal in his frustration. After a brief glance over the entire thing, the young vampire let out a breath of exasperation and said, "Renfield, the map is  _upside down_."

"…Oh. Thank you, young Master."

"Just  _ask_  somebody for bat's sake," Ingrid snapped. "If we don't find the stupid place soon, I'm going to have an aneurysm."

Taking his sister's advice, Vlad quickly leaned over Renfield and rolled the driver's window down. He stuck his head out and saw a pleasant couple busily rummaging through their garage.

"Excuse me," Vlad called out to them. The pair looked over and smiled. "I'm sorry to bother you, but could you please tell us where this address is?" He held out the papers his father had obtained while purchasing the mansion.

"Oh," smiled the woman. "It's just right up the hill. You can't miss it."

The man whistled. "Wow, I thought nobody would ever buy that place. It's been empty for years, you know?"

"Perfect," Vlad muttered under his breath. But he thanked couple and soon Renfield was guiding the vehicle up the hill the pair had pointed out. Glancing at the rather isolated location, Vlad quietly hoped that the directions he had gained were incorrect – he would love to have their home surrounded by the normal ones down below – but of course it wasn't meant to be.

As they pulled up over the apex of the knoll, a mansion fit for the dead overlooked Stokely from its lofty position. It indeed looked like it had been abandoned for years, complete with the haunted house apparatus his family so loved in a home. He just exhaled heavily while his sister and father hastily left the cramped car to explore their new household, leaving Renfield to carry in their belongings.

Vlad slowly followed suit and trailed his family inside. He avoided touching the gate (it hung precariously close to collapsing) and plodded across the withered yard before crossing the threshold of the gigantic double door entrance.

Ingrid was already shooting for the highest tower, shouting down, "I claim the top room!"

Why she still bothered, Vlad had no idea. They all knew he would end up with it in the end; his father knew how much he loved the uppermost quarters. And as much as Vlad felt a twang of sympathy for his sister, he didn't feel guilty enough to relinquish it.

"Master Vlad! My goodness, this is just as terrible as the last one," Zoltan said, rolling his stuffed form inside.

"Great isn't it?" the Count crowed. "Picked it myself, you know."

Vlad sighed tiredly but allowed himself to smile a moment later as Nox nudged his leg. The feline had become its smaller form the day following his detention and had since stayed that way. The cat was understandably frazzled from the drive, stuck in the back with his father. Now that Nox was free to roam, he purred in contentment once more before springing away and into the halls beyond.

The Count watched his son silently for a moment before asking, "Vladdy, can you do your father a favor and clean this place up a bit? I would normally make Renfield do it, but he would take days."

By "clean up" his father was thinking about anything  _but_  the actual definition. In the vampire world, cobwebs and years of dust were completely acceptable – even mandatory – for a decent home. The overall aged look and blackened colors suited his family's taste perfectly. What Vlad's father desired was probably a few lit candles here and there and their belongings arranged just as he liked it back in Transylvania.

Vlad nodded in reply and looked back towards the entrance where Renfield was finally lugging in the last of their luggage. The man was panting heavily from the excessive load and palpable relief overcame their servant's features when Vlad said, "I've got it from here, Renfield. Why don't you just re-park the car?"

Once the man had gone to do as he was told, the young vampire snapped his fingers to hover the baggage behind him and proceeded to walk through each room, lighting candles and settling their things as he went. The process was quickened considerably with the help of his magic and what would have taken Renfield many days of struggle was nearly completed by the time the sun began to set.

The only things still trailing Vlad as he walked were his belongings and he couldn't help but keep his school trunk close at hand. He knew his father would not rummage through his things – the man could have cared less for what his son had inside – but sometimes Zoltan liked to explore a little too much and his sister had a penchant for finding things he didn't want her to find. The first thing Vlad decided he would do once he had settled in his room was hide the Cloak and Stone he still had in his possession.

Entering the highest room in the mansion, Vlad looked up to see his sister getting to her feet. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Father said I could have this room."

"No he didn't!" Ingrid hissed. "You're just saying that!"

"Well, what do you think he's going to say when I ask him?" Vlad didn't like being this way, demanding what he wanted. But if there was one thing he wouldn't let up on, it was that his room be as far away from the coffins on the lowest floor as possible. He didn't like the chill that seemed to permeate the very air that they occupied and he didn't need a reminder of what might be waiting for him in a few years' time if he didn't discover a cure.

"I claimed this room!" Ingrid snarled, crossing her arms. It seemed childish, almost, to be arguing over this. But she had been belittled for far too long to not fight over the smallest of things. "What gives you the right to just come in here and take it?"

"I left your things in the room a few steps below," Vlad merely replied. "I even arranged them just like they were back in Romania." And ignoring his sister's protests, he waved his things into place and before Ingrid could manage more than a few scathing insults, it was as if he had never left his room a few countries away.

His sister was silent for an empty moment, her eyes boring into his in a quiet accusation. Then she brushed past him in chilling calm and left him to his own devices.

She would be angry for a while, Vlad knew. But he was willing to endure that. He hated the coffers more than anything in the entire mansion and that aversion was only heightened by what he had experienced at Hogwarts. The reminders of the dead only brought back images of a black wraith clinging to the life of another…

* * *

**So that was just a small taste of what summer is going to be for Vlad. Short, but I just wanted something to introduce the summer :)**

**And just as a reminder, I will NOT have pairings very much at all outside from the canon ones. And even the canon ones will be mentioned only in passing at best. It just doesn't strike me that romantic focus would do this story much good.**

**Till next time!**


	19. Robin

**Chapter 19: Robin**

The Branaugh couple was, perhaps, the most normal couple in the entirety of Stokely. And if not the most normal, they were certainly the most hospitable and warm welcoming. Bright colors and all-smiles were their trademark and their quaint house was the idealistic image one might find in a storybook. In a modern sense, they lived in a fairy-tale world complete with nature-loving tendencies and happy endings for all.

Their two eldest twin children, Ian and Paul, were your typical rugby players: big, strong, and not exactly the most intelligent of the bunch. A good four years older than their closest sibling, they often stuck to themselves and – like all twins – enjoyed the pleasure of each other's company. They did almost everything together and planned to continue that way for the foreseeable future.

On the other side of the spectrum, the youngest of the four Branaugh children and the only girl amongst them was Chloe. Brilliant, witty, and rather pint-sized, she was the family's local "baby" and her parents and brothers never failed to dote upon her. Reality was the name of the game for her and while her parents enjoyed seeing the best in everything and everybody, she took the precautions to remind herself that life was not always that way.

Robin, however, was a different story altogether.

He was something of a black sheep, and he would have told you so if you had asked. Rainbows, sunshine, and good cheer were far from his list of enjoyable things in the world. In his mind, darkness and morbid imagery were far more appealing. The mystery of ghouls, the regrets of the dead, and the danger of the wicked were Robin's cup of tea. And out of all his obsessions and fascinations with the mystical, he revered the myth of the vampires the most. If you were to walk into his room, you would find a myriad of skulls, drawings of the undead, vials of who-knew-what, and the general color scheme of black and purple.

Needless to say, Robin was a little different. So it was understandable that on the particular summer day his parents had decided to go on a camping trip, Robin was less than inclined to accompany them.

"Come down, Robin!" his mother called from the bottom of the stairs. "We're almost ready to go!"

For the past few weeks, it had been his goal to change his internal clock into a nocturnal one. And while Robin did find his mother endearing to a certain extent, he had been rather irritated as his plans were constantly thwarted by his family's plans.

"I already said I'm staying home! I'll be fine; there's plenty of leftovers to last me a few days!" he shouted back.

"Oh, come on dear. This is a family outing!"

Robin groaned aloud and tumbled with all the grace of a five-year-old out of his bed. He had, of course, neglected to pack whatever essentials he might need for a camping trip and he didn't hesitate to inform his mother about that particular fact. He was hoping it was enough to free him from his family duty to attend. When the only reply he received to that particular comment was his bedroom door slamming open to reveal his twin elder brothers, Robin only groaned again and proceeded to bury his head back under his covers.

"Look at the freak," scoffed Ian. "Still trying to become nocturnal?"

A small, blonde head poked its way in underneath the two larger boys and the fierce voice of Robin's sister snapped, "Oh, get up, Robin. You know Mom and Dad aren't going to leave without you."

The only reply both comments received was another prolonged moan. "I can't go. I'm allergic to sunlight."

Ever the most mature of the four, Chloe stepped inside the room and tugged the covers off her brother's head. "Come on, Robin. It won't be that bad. It's only for a day and you never know whom you're going to meet. Mom and Dad already met a new family moving into Stokely. I think they're going to living in that old mansion up the hill."

That caught Robin's attention. "What? The old mansion?"

"Yes," his sister replied cautiously. Robin was hardly ever interested in anything aside from his morbid obsessions. "Why are you suddenly so interested?"

Because any  _normal_  family wouldn't move into that dilapidated construct. It was centuries old at least and it hardly seemed worth remodeling. "I think I'll go and say hello to the new neighbors," Robin said.

"What?"

"It's probably more interesting than camping. Tell Mom and Dad I'll be away for a bit."

Chloe could only stare in disbelief as her brother seemed to spring to life, pulling on his dark array of clothes complete with a long, black cape. He had never been interested in potential neighbors before. The largest reaction she had ever gotten from him on this particular topic was a grunt and maybe an eye roll. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Robin was ready to go and charging out the front door, oblivious to his parents' calls and his family's impending trip.

As he trudged up the hill, Robin couldn't help but be slightly excited. He had always looked at this mansion, dreamed about the strange creatures that might be wandering about and haunting it. As a child, he had visited many times just to see whether his imagination was true or not. Perhaps this was the chance he had been hoping for his entire life. Perhaps this family would be it. They didn't even have to be some mythical creature; if they were just less sprinkles and cheer, he would be happy. Stokely, a village of bright homes and equally mundane inhabitants, had always been something of a puzzle he couldn't quite fit.

Just as he was drawing level to the gigantic wooden doors of the mansion's entrance, he heard the footfalls and calls of his father running up the hill to catch him and quickly darted around the sidewall. He didn't want to be dragged back home quite yet. If he just waited his father out, perhaps he could meet this new family in peace.

But then he heard his father actually knock on the mansion's doors and he grimaced as somebody answered. Robin didn't bother to stay and eavesdrop; his father would most likely do something embarrassing.

He ventured a little further towards the back of the property and stared a little in awe at the tower facing the woodlands further east. The view must have been spectacular from the room window he could see at the top and he couldn't help but feel a little wistful at the thought that whoever slept there wouldn't have to gaze at the town all of the time. What wouldn't he give to have that view, to have some sort of image that wasn't all suburban and unbearably normal?

Robin was gazing up at the tower, lost in his thoughts, when the window abruptly opened and a young voice exclaimed, "I don't need another cape! Isn't my entire wardrobe of cloaks enough?"

Trouble in paradise? Robin felt slightly awkward listening in on the family's dynamics. Luckily – or unluckily – he was spared that continuous awkwardness when a piece of black clothing was suddenly thrown out the window and straight on to his face. He let out a startled splutter upon impact and stumbled before losing his balance.

Annoyance and worry about whether this was a good idea were Robin's first reactions. But when he saw that a cape almost exactly like his was what had fallen on him, pure elation replaced them. This family was just like him! They wore capes too – and lived in a haunted mansion to boot! Perhaps he wasn't alone in the town anymore and that thought made him smile. He fingered the material of the cape and was amazed at how smooth and well made it was. It was undoubtedly much better quality than his own, but that was expected considering he had gotten his off the Internet.

He could hardly keep this cape, even if the owner had technically thrown it out. Returning it would make the perfect excuse to come inside and then Robin could finally see for himself what this new family was like.

But then that would raise questions as to why he was hovering towards the back of the mansion in the first place. And what was he going to say to that? Robin bit his lips and crept back towards the entrance only to see his father still there and conversing with whoever had opened the door. He quickly retreated back and peered uneasily up at the tower window. His eyes drifted towards the enormous tree paralleling the building and he thought that perhaps he  _could_  return the cape. It would just take some climbing…

His mind set on his new course of action, Robin slung the cape over his shoulders and proceeded to make his way up the branches of the old tree. The bark was slowly peeling and it swayed slightly in the breeze, but the boughs were sturdy and Robin was careful to test his weight before grasping any particular branch. He wasn't sure how long it took, but by the time he got to the top he was slightly winded and the sun was only a sliver against the horizon.

He was lucky that one specific branch was long enough and strong enough to support his weight as he crept towards the window and, peering in, he breathed a sigh of relief that nobody was inside. He wasn't breaking and entering. He was just…surreptitiously giving back something somebody had dropped.

Ignoring whatever common sense was telling him to stop, Robin slowly opened the window and jumped the last distance inside. His feet and body landed safely within, but he grimaced as the tearing sound of cloth erupted behind him. Glancing back, he saw that a corner of the cape he had been carrying had caught on the ledge and had torn.

Ignoring that as well, Robin cast a quick look around the room he had landed in and felt the heavy stone of disappointment settle within his gut. The room looked completely normal. With the exception of the rather archaic furniture, the bright colors and myriad of school supplies sprawled on the study desk indicated that just a normal student occupied the place. Robin had been hoping for something more akin to his own room and the sight of such a mundane bedroom disheartened him. He sighed and placed the torn cloak upon one of the unopened trunks, preparing himself for the long climb back down the tree outside.

Just as he was about to clamber out the window, the sound of the bedroom door opening shocked him into place and he found himself staring in shock at a boy about his age.

Again, Robin was disappointed to see the cheerfully colored clothing the boy wore and he very nearly continued on his way back out. But something about the way the boy's skin was not-quite-but-still-eerily-pale and the way his dark blue eyes shone from something other than the light of the setting sun made him stay stock still, waiting for the other boy's reaction.

It took a moment of stunned silence before the boy said, "I didn't know thieves were a problem here."

"It isn't," Robin hastily replied in an effort to fix the damage. "I – I was just returning your cape."

The boy's widened just a little more and his gaze settled upon the black cloth bunched on top of his trunk. "You tore it."

"But I still returned it, right?" Robin smiled sheepishly.

The boy's mouth tightened skeptically before a brief look of panic abruptly overcame his features. "Get under the bed!"

"Wha –"

"Now!"

Robin complied, if only because he didn't want to make the situation any worse than it already was. He huddled himself as best he could and tried to ignore the excess dust that threatened to overcome his senses. He had just stilled when another person came storming into the room.

The two quickly broke into a flurry of conversation in a language Robin had never heard. Russian? Romanian? He wasn't quite sure. Either way, he only heard the cadence of their voices, crescendoing into what seemed to be another argument. And right when he thought he they might come to blows, the person who had entered the room abruptly switched to English.

"-ook, Vladdy! See? I put some effort into this 'blending in' you wanted so badly. I learned the language of these peasants before coming. It's better than your sister; she still has to begin reading the book I got her about it."

"That's fantastic, father, but I don't think changing my…diet now would be a great idea!"

"Oh, come now! You'll love it, just like your father! There's nothing better than the taste of blood–"

"Father, please I don't think trying before I come of age would exactly be a good idea yet!"

"It's a new town, new chances! Trying early is still a good way to start. But if you would rather wait until your first fangs come –"

"Father!" A brief note of panic now tinged the boy's voice.

But Robin barely heard it as his breath hitched and his mind became a whirlwind of thoughts. Blood? First fangs? He couldn't leap to conclusions, but either this family was absolutely out of their minds or they were his dream come true.

"Why don't we talk about this later? After I finish unpacking. I'm a little tired from the trip."

"Of course, of course, Vladdy," the boy's father conceded. "I shall meet you at midnight sharp for dinner."

Robin waited until the man's footsteps had faded away before he crept out from under the bed. Immediately, he was subjugated to the boy's fierce glare and scathing, "Hello. I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Vlad and – oh – you must be the creep who just climbed into my window and just started wandering around."

"Robin. Look, I'm sorry about coming in like that but it was the only way to give your cloak back."

"Really?" Disbelief was clearly painted over Vlad's face. "You couldn't just have left it on the front door?" At Robin's blank gaze, the boy just sighed and shook his head. "Thank you, I suppose."

Vlad turned away then, as if giving Robin a chance to leave and have nothing come of this breaking and entering. A part of Robin was tempted do just that, but he had gone for so long with nobody he had ever really known to match his own eccentricities that he set his teeth and closed his eyes before baring his neck and leaning in.

Nothing happened for a long moment. Then Vlad asked, "What are you doing?"

Robin hoped that what he was doing wasn't completely off the mark and dared to say, "Aren't you going to bite me?"

"Bite you?" Vlad's voice was carefully neutral but there was just the slightest touch of apprehension that made Robin's hopes soar. "Why would I want to bite you?"

"You can if you want."

"No!"

Robin backed off then. The vehement rejection made his resolve falter the slightest bit as he replied, "Oh. Okay."

"Go! Don't linger here! You're lucky enough that my father didn't find you," Vlad hissed. "You have  _no_  idea what he's capable of."

Take the plunge. Take the plunge. "I know exactly what he's capable of. You're vampires, aren't you?"

Something akin to horror flickered across the other boy's face before he swiftly turned around to mask it. "Don't be ridiculous. What a silly idea!"

But Robin continued to push. "Blood, first fang, eating dinner at midnight?"

Vlad was silent to the list of clearly abnormal things. He was painfully still, unmoving. Then he was whirling around and snarling, "You can't tell anybody! If you tell a single soul –"

"I think you're underestimating suburban apathy," Robin replied, the perfect image of calm. But inside, he was yelling and shouting with joy because here was everything he had ever hoped for. Here was the key out of his completely normal life. Here was something to make his days free of the façade of sunshine and happiness he so abhorred. "But honestly, vampires are awesome. It's so cool how –"

"No. It isn't." A frosty scowl had settled upon Vlad's face. "You have no idea. Vampires aren't 'awesome' or 'cool' like you think."

"But I know everything there is to know about them!"

"You  _think_  you know everything. If you really did know everything, you wouldn't still be here and lingering to become my father's dinner."

"But I won't tell anybody! I swear!"

Vlad stilled at that. What had previously been walled off anger had suddenly become contemplative consideration. "You swear?"

"I do! You can't imagine how long I've wanted something like this to happen!"

The young vampire pursed his lips before holding out his hand. "Swear to me again."

Robin wasn't quite sure what a handshake would do to convince the other boy, but he quickly grasped Vlad's palm. A slight thrill went through him when it felt cold to the touch. "I swear that I will not tell anybody that your family is filled with vampires."

A satisfied smile graced Vlad's face at the promise and he finally relaxed. "Alright. Fine. You know, for the first normal person I've met, you're really not that…"

"Normal?" Robin supplied. "Well for my first vampire, you're really not that vampiric."

"And that is something I'm grateful to hear. Now get out before my father catches you. We wouldn't want the entire town to be out searching for a missing person, do we?"

~0~

The moment the human boy, Robin, had left the property safely, Vlad finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He was just grateful that his father had not been too hungry. Had the Count been thirsting, he would have been able to sense the presence of a Breather. His concealing spells that he had hastily thrown on Robin had probably helped, but Vlad wasn't arrogant enough to think that his magic was trained enough yet to block his father. It was a good thing that the first thing he had done with his room was cast illusion spells he had learned specifically to protect the things he wished to keep secret. Whoever entered the room would not see what Vlad didn't want them to see – not unless he gave them express permission.

Never before had he been gladder for his wandless magic. If he had been restricted from using it outside of Hogwarts like the rest of his classmates, there was no way he would have been able to hide everything like he had. He didn't need Robin figuring out that he was a wizard on top of being a vampire. It was bad enough that a mortal had already discovered that his family was vampires. If Vlad hadn't made Robin swear a binding magical promise, he would have knocked the boy unconscious and left him outside to believe it all a dream.

Vlad had been so, so tempted to do just that. It would make life so much easier; he didn't need any more complications. But when he had seen the chance to have another person his age to converse with – another possible friend – he just couldn't let the chance pass by him.

Robin was another step to normalcy for Vlad, even if the other boy wasn't exactly normal.

* * *

**I'm going to try my best not to make a complete mimic of what happened in the Young Dracula series. I will probably draw from a lot of the quick one-episode plot lines that I think will be effective in this story for the summer but it will be changed, of course.**

**For those of you who did watch the Young Dracula series, I tried to make this slightly more realistic than the TV show. Because in the show, Robin just come out of nowhere and suddenly Vlad, Ingrid, and the Count were completely okay with it because Robin promised not to tell anybody. Realistically, that wouldn't fly at all. So I took advantage of the fact that Vlad has accessible magic and I made it so that neither his sister nor his father know about Robin. His sister wouldn't be quite so understanding and the Count would probably just eat Robin upon sight.**

**Things will be considerably different because of that.**

**Till next time!**


	20. Breathers and School

**Chapter 20: Breathers and School**

For the first few weeks of summer, life seemed to sink into a sort of lazy calm, a peace Vlad valued after his rather hectic year. With the exception of his sister's increasing ire at every thing and everybody, his days often incorporated sleep, his magical books, and the occasional chat with Nox and Zoltan. The feline and stuffed Hellhound had a rocky start, but the two had eventually fallen into a mutual tolerance of each other. Vlad had pointedly refused to acknowledge either of them after they had nearly destroyed his room in an argument until they had formally apologized. If Vlad were to ignore the fact that he was living in a mansion with a vampire for a father and wizards for friends, life was nothing more than mundane. A part of Vlad wanted it to last forever. Life was simple.

But – like all good things – it came to an end and Vlad knew it when Robin came knocking on the front door.

The young vampire raced down the stairs and down the hallways to the entrance, praying that his father or Renfield wouldn't be there first. If either of them found Robin, Vlad might end up having to explain to the town of Stokely why they their population had decreased by one. By the time his feet had skidded to a stop on the stone floor, his heart sank when he saw somebody worse than either his father or the family servant greeting Robin: Ingrid.

"Who is this, Vlad?" his sister asked, her voice cloyingly sweet. "A friend? You never told me you had already met somebody." Vlad could only stare for a moment at the fluent, if slightly accented, English that came from her mouth. It seemed that Ingrid had taken the liberty of learning the new language, after all.

Robin seemed on the verge of answering, but Vlad quickly blurt out, "He's one of the neighbors. I saw him on the drive up." He smiled at the other boy, trying his hardest to silently convince Robin to go with the flow. "It's nice to meet you."

But the human was paying no attention whatsoever. His eyes were staring a little wide-eyed at Ingrid's face and the only reply he offered was, "You're really pretty."

"I know," Ingrid smiled smugly. "But please, continue. You were telling me why you had decided to drop by."

Robin blinked at the request before his eyes finally focused. "Oh. I – uh – was just here to say hello. Greet the new neighbors and all that."

"Alone?"

"Ah – uh – well yes. My family is a little busy. I decided to come alone today."

Ingrid raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. But she relaxed her scrutiny and interrogation and said, "Well, that's a pity because my father doesn't exactly welcome guests. Of course…unless you'd be willing to provide some donations."

"What kind of donations?" Robin asked naively.

"Nothing!" Vlad blurted out. "Nothing. It's alright, Ingrid. I'll talk to him outside." And before his sister could retort, he rushed past her and out the door while dragging the other boy with him. He pulled them far enough away – down the hill and then some – before slowing down and glancing about to make sure his sister hadn't followed. When they were suitably alone, he whirled upon Robin and quietly hissed, "First of all, you're pretty silly to think you know everything about vampires when you forget that any 'donations' my father would want would have to do with blood. And second…are you insane? What on earth gave you the idea that walking up to my home's front door would be safe?"

Robin seemed hardly fazed by Vlad's vehemence. He merely shrugged and quirked a slight smile on his face. "Well, you guys weren't exactly venturing out of your castle and I was just beginning to wonder whether you ever would. So I decided to check it out." His brow furrowed and he looked at Vlad curiously. "But I wasn't planning on going about with you. I didn't think vampires could walk in the sun."

"They normally can't," Vlad replied, curtly leaving it at that. "Come on, we're already out. We might as well take a walk or something." If he didn't sate the other boy's strange obsession with him and his family, the young vampire worried that Robin would just come back again, risking his neck. "And my family doesn't know that you know we're vampires. So could you please try not to make yourself an even bigger target than you already are?"

Robin just grinned in reply and Vlad had to question Fate why he had ended up with the strangest of acquaintances. "Why don't I give you a tour of Stokely?"

The vampire shifted uncomfortably at the idea. "I don't know. I'd love to, don't misunderstand me. But it's really better that I don't draw any attention to myself…"

"Come on. It won't be that bad."

And Vlad gave in within a few more of Robin's insistences. It was difficult for him to say no and he had finally caved in. Ever since he had been a child, he had wanted to venture within the town nearby his home. Back in Transylvania, he had never actually seen all there was to see in the normal lives of others and now that it was being offered to him on a silver platter, his resolve quickly withered. He disregarded the possibility of his father's ire – Vlad had hardly ever seen the Count happier in his life than he had since his homecoming – and he dismissed his sister's possible "tattle." This time, there was nothing really stopping him from doing as he liked and he decided to take advantage of it.

As they ambled around the town, Vlad couldn't help but stare a little in amazement. The place was hardly the height of opulence he had grown up surrounded by, and that made it all the more endearing to him. Everything from the homes to the local movie theatre reeked of a simplicity that Vlad craved. The bustle of the people in the streets and the cars on the road proceeded calmly and it soothed him to be amongst the buzz of everyday life like he was a part of it.

Robin, though, seemed to have other sentiments. "It's just…so  _boring_ ," the boy finally sighed out towards the end of their walk. At Vlad's skeptical glance, Robin insisted, "It really is! All you ever see are the same houses just painted slightly differently for streets and streets and then there are the occasional markets or schools. Nothing ever happens here, Vlad!"

"I think it's very nice," the vampire frowned. "It seems very peaceful here."

"Maybe that's easy for you to say; you probably didn't have to deal with so much normal before. At least your family is  _different_."

Bitterness coated Vlad's tongue. "Different doesn't exactly mean better, Robin."

"I don't get you," the other boy shook his head. Vlad could say the same back, but he allowed the topic to dwindle away as they walked together in relative silence.

When they neared the base of the hill leading up to the castle, Robin paused and said, "You have to promise that you're going to come down here. And don't take a few weeks to do it. Maybe if I can come over and visit too; that'd be nice –"

"Robin."

"Alright, alright. I know: keep away from the big, bad vampires." He rolled his eyes. "But you have to come down and we'll talk. I'm not letting this chance pass by; how many other people have a vampire for a source of information?" Robin grinned excitedly at the thought. "Besides, if you don't come down – and your sister too – the people in the town will begin to wonder what's going on. There's summer school, you know. And considering that you're new, people are going to expect that you attend. To make sure that you're caught up with the curriculum and whatever."

Vlad eyed the other boy before letting out a breath. "Okay. If I can convince my father, I'll be down. And did you mention school…?"

~0~

"You can't seriously think that I'm going to school."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Vladdy, but I think your sister might be right." The Count shuddered at the admission. "It's bad enough that I send you off to the wizards' school to get – ugh –  _good grades_. You can't expect me to allow you to go off to a  _Breather_  school, even if you are planning on wreaking havoc."

Vlad had known those would be the reactions he would get from his family. He had debated and argued with himself about the topic after returning from his tour with Robin and in the end, he had decided to give in again. Yes, he had summer classwork to complete from Hogwarts, but he would be able to finish it early enough if he spaced himself out well. He was doing nothing, really, besides that and going to the local school would be the ideal way to take up what time he had to spare. That, and he hoped that perhaps he would be able to make a few more companions his age. Normal ones.

But he was starting to think that maybe he should have brought up the topic  _after_  his father had eaten for the night. It was probably not the wisest decision to approach the Count about attending school right after the man had woken up.

"But don't you think people will begin to wonder why we never leave? Don't you think they'll begin to snoop around if we don't blend in?" Vlad argued back.

The Count scoffed. "Don't be silly. In Transylvania the peasants never questioned us."

"That's because they didn't even know we were living there. They thought our home was just haunted. Here, they know we're occupying the castle."

"Then let them know. Let them know that they're living beneath our more superior species!"

"Father!" Vlad exclaimed. "You can't just do that!"

"And why not?"

"Vlad just wants to make friends," Ingrid smiled condescendingly, pulling the conversation in a different direction. "He thinks he can be one of  _them_."

"Our kind don't need friends," the Count growled, low in his throat as his eyes flashed crimson red. "And my children do  _not_  go to school. Especially school filled with filthy Breathers."

Vlad snapped, "Then what is Hogwarts?"

"Training," his father curtly replied. "Taking advantage of the knowledge an inferior species can offer. It is not a mundane school – that is for sure. School is where children sit still and listen quietly for hours upon end to a babbling fool like bumbling idiots. The wizards' training is necessary for your power. But my heir will not be subjected to something so degrading and unworthy as a commonplace farce of an instructing prison. You shall only receive the very best, and it shall come to you, not the other way around."

Vlad was still and his jaw was rigid. "So you will not allow me to go."

"No."

"Well," Vlad replied, his throat thick. "Well. Thank you, father, for ignoring my wishes."

"Oh, Vladdy, don't be such a spoilsport –"

But the younger vampire had already shoved his chair back and gone.

~0~

The following day had not been a pleasant one in the Dracula household. At least not for Vlad. Ingrid seemed beyond pleased to find that it was her brother, and not her, that was completely miserable and upset due to their father's stubbornness for once and it was not past her to strut her glee. Vlad took the extra effort of locking himself in his room and had even placed an enchantment on the door to ensure that nobody could come in. Zoltan had tried to offer a few words of comfort, but he had quickly fallen silent after Vlad had told him to do so. Nox was slightly wiser and had made sure to steer clear of the young vampire.

It was, perhaps, not so much the idea that he was not in school that bothered Vlad. It was far more that his father had – for the umpteenth time – believed he knew what his son wanted most and had completely disregarded any other possibility. True, the Count tried every day to spoil his son and heir rotten, but the man was missing the most important fact that he was doing it in all the wrong ways. He was trying to spoil his  _vampire_  son when Vlad wanted to be anything but.

Vlad had gotten into many arguments with his father over the years about this exact same topic. But with the compound effect of the school year's ending, the young vampire felt like he wanted to scream and rip his hair out. But that would have been merely counterproductive, so he immersed himself within his schoolbooks and lost himself to the words.

It wasn't until the following night that his father's voice pulled him out of his self-induced study session. The Count called up, "Vlad! It's a quarter past midnight!"

The boy sighed and closed his books before snuffing his candles with a snap. But contrary to Vlad's idea of a night's sleep, his father came bursting through his bedroom door – the man's inherent power focused enough to snap his son's locking spell – and commanded the candles back to light.

"Come on. Get up," the Count demanded.

"I've been up all day," Vlad gritted out.

"That was your choice, not mine. Come, come." The older vampire beckoned his son over to the window, throwing it open to reveal the open night air and the bloated moon hovering above. "Come look at this beautiful moonshine. You can't just laze about in bed all night."

It was another one of his father's attempts to make amends. It was hardly the way to go about it, but apologies weren't in the man's vocabulary comprehension. Interacting with his son and trying to relate were the closest Vlad would ever get to an amend and while the attempt was normally enough to placate the boy, this time he was not so easily mollified.

"You do realize I'm not a vampire yet," Vlad snapped irritably, still unwilling to pull himself out of his bed. "I sleep at night. I like garlic bread. I walk in the sun." His eyes narrowed. "I want to go to school."

"Don't be silly. You  _are_  a vampire – just one without your full power yet." The Count's gaze examined his son's face. "Is this about the friends thing, hm? Because I've been thinking about what you said earlier."

Hope – bright and blinding – blossomed within Vlad's chest and he could hardly bear to taste it. "You mean you've changed your mind? I can go to school?"

"No, even better…I'll be your," the Count grimaced, "friend."

Whatever elation Vlad had for the split second a moment earlier died immediately and cold bitterness replaced it. "I was hoping to have friends born within the last century."

"I can teach you all my ways!"

"I don't  _want_  that!" Vlad exclaimed back. "I don't  _want_  to be a vampire! How many times have I told you that, father? I just want to be an ordinary boy!"

His father's face became eerily stony at the proclamation and darkness flittered across it, his eyes turning a pitch black. The air seemed to solidify within a second's span, suffocating in its intensity. A clap of thunder – a clear indicator of his father's ire – deafened the younger vampire and for a moment, he felt a slight touch of fear. For all the Count's faults, the man possessed strong vampiric power and sometimes it was easy to forget that the man could easily snap his neck. The only thing that kept Vlad indignant and unwavering was the knowledge that no vampire would willingly kill his own still-breathing offspring.

"You disappoint me," his father murmured, his voice quiet and layered with power.

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, both vampires unwilling to back down. And then the Count stepped away and left with barely a sound, the candles dying out the moment the door closed behind him.

As Vlad sat still in the darkness, his eyes flickered over to the open window and frustration marred his thoughts. He was still angry with his father and he still believed that he had every right to be. But his father was a vampire and it wasn't within the Count's nature to raise his son as anything other than the vampire he himself was. The man had probably never thought that any child of his would willingly wish to become mortal and a twinge of regret and sorrow made Vlad sigh. And things had been going so well, better than they had been in years. The Count was trying, in his own way, and Hogwarts seemed to have opened something that both of them could share. But Vlad now saw that it was only a temporary solution and the main conflict of interests was still as alive than ever.

Sometimes it made Vlad think that his father might have done better with a different son.

~0~

Morning found Vlad poking listlessly at his breakfast. It was actually edible for once and the fact that there was only a smidgen of mold on the corner of the plate indicated that Renfield had tried his best to make the meal suitable. The action was almost thoughtful, but Vlad knew better than to think that the servant had done it to mollify the tension within the castle. It was far more likely that the filthy man was hoping to help things in order to alleviate the Count's dour mood. Life was more miserable for Renfield when his master was less forgiving of his mistakes.

Vlad was in the midst of his oatmeal when a doorbell echoed throughout the castle. He froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. He was prepared to open the door himself but Renfield came into the dining room a few minutes later, a silly smile on his face. It made the young vampire want to groan; nothing ever good came from that expression.

"What is it, filth?" Ingrid sneered over her own breakfast. "What have you done now?"

"Somebody is here to see you and young master Vlad, Mistress Ingrid," Renfield replied, fidgeting. "She seems to have brought a metal horse with her."

Before Vlad could so much as furrow his brow at the strange comment, an elderly woman – perhaps in her forties or fifties – came strolling in dressed in exercise gear and towing a bike alongside her. She focused her eyes upon Vlad's form and smiled, "Hello. You must be Vlad. And…you must be Ingrid!"

The young vampiress merely gave the woman a sneer. "And you must be wearing that for charity."

Oh, blood and garlic. Vlad wanted to strangle Renfield. What in shadows' name was their servant thinking? The young vampire groaned and placed his spoon back on his plate. Of course. Renfield must have believed the "meal" would placate the Count.

Speak of the devil…

"Who is this?" Needless to say, the Count was irritable. He hated daytime like the plague and when he was forced to wake from the castle's echoing doorbell, it was a clear indicator that the day was not off to a good start.

"I am Ms. Harker! I am the Headmistress at the local grammar school in Stokely. You must be Mr.…?"

"Count," Vlad's father replied with a slight growl in his throat. They had agreed on the drive to Stokely that they would conceal their true name. The Count had been fiercely against it at the onset; the man did not care whether they were recognized or not. But Vlad had pulled a few strings with his "favorite child" status and his father had reluctantly agreed to keep their family name unknown. The only consolation the older vampire had found out of the agreement had been the fact that their new surnames would consist of his own forename.

"Ah. Count." The headmistress smiled, but her demeanor quickly sobered as her lips took on a thinner line. "I have been receiving…reports. That the children are not being placed into school."

The Count's eyes narrowed and Vlad saw the faintest flicker of red within his father's irises. "Reports? From whom?"

"I'm afraid I can't say."

"Well then I can hardly take your words into account. Whoever presumes they have the right to 'report' on what I choose to do with my own children cannot be more than a bumbling fool."

An indignant expression overcame Ms. Harker's face. "Now look, I don't know where you hail from, Mr. Count. But in our country, children are required to go to school. And if you refuse to cooperate, they will be taken away!"

Vlad felt panic constrict his throat at the immediate hatred and fury in his father's eyes. How the headmistress continued to be oblivious to the dangerous situation she was placing herself in was beyond the young vampire, but he knew he had to try and diffuse the tension now before something happened. If there was one thing vampires reacted badly to, it was a threat to take anything that belonged to them. And his father was already in a dreadful mood from the previous night's conflict.

"Really?" The Count's voice had quieted to a deadly whisper. "And, pray tell, how would you go about that?"

Some lingering animal instinct within the headmistress prompted her to shiver slightly at the dropping temperature in the room, but the look of brief confusion on her face clearly showed that she still had no idea how deep a hole she was digging for herself. "It wouldn't cost a thing," she persevered. "And children deserve an education. You cannot just keep them ignorant and unlearned as they are."

"I hardly think my children are  _unlearned_. I daresay your pitiful excuse of a school houses the general population of fools. I will not send my children to something so lowly."

"Now look, Mr. Count. It's quite simple." Some righteous anger was now coloring the woman's tone, pushing her on despite fact that her instincts were probably screaming at her to run. "Either you send your children to go to school or you will be taken to Court."

The challenge flared the Count's rage. "Taken to Court?" A predatory smile crooked his expression into one of cold amusement as if he were speaking to nothing more than an ant beneath his feet. "I am aquiver with fear." He chuckled, his voice laced with layers of power. "And, pray tell, what is this so-called Court?"

"Father!" Vlad hissed, terrified. He could feel the Count's control wavering and he could sense the man's power beginning to coalesce. It was clear to the young vampire that his father was about to take the headmistress as a meal right on the spot and that was the last thing Vlad wanted.

"I don't know why you are so against it," Ms. Harker protested. "It will be no burden to you. And we have a qualified staff you would be pleased to know is teaching your children. Why, we have a great variety of classes; we just added carpentry this year! Mr. Van Hellsing came from a few counties away just to teach the class –"

"Van Hellsing?" Something within the Count's voice had changed. All of the man's gathering power immediately dissipated at the name and curiosity mixed with another inscrutable emotion replaced his anger.

"Why, yes. He is a fabulous carpenter, I've heard –"

"You can take the girl."

" – that he has had years of experience in the field." Then whatever the older vampire had said finally sank in. A slightly baffled expression overcame the headmistress's face for a moment before her wide smile returned. "Oh! Well, that is a start, I suppose. But surely you wish for your son to have the same opportunity."

"What?" Ingrid screeched aloud.

"I still have hope for the boy," the Count replied, ignoring his daughter.

"I suppose he must be still adjusting to the new environment. But, Mr. Count, Vlad must attend school eventually otherwise I'm afraid I will have to file a report."

Annoyance made the Count bare his teeth. "Very well," he smoothly bit out. "But I'm afraid he can only attend for half of the day. Weak constitution, you see."

"That can be arranged," the headmistress beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "I will have them registered to begin next week."

"Wonderful." Vlad's father looked anything but satisfied. "Renfield, show her out."

As their servant ushered the woman to the entrance, the Count turned upon his children and eyed them both. "Which one of you was it? Which one of you informed that Breather?" His voice was so frigid it made Vlad shudder. It was rare to see his father in such a mood, even after last night's argument.

Ingrid sneered. "It was obviously the Breather-lover. Why would  _I_  want to go to a filthy commoner school?"

As his father's eyes turned coldly upon him, Vlad quickly spluttered out, "But it wasn't me! I swear it!" Then the thought that perhaps Robin might have made his heart stop. What if Ingrid told? What if she mentioned that one Breather boy who had happened to stop by a day ago…?

But his sister did not say a word. She only watched as their father slowly stared at his son in the eye and then turned to face the hearth. With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace burst into a wave of flame, flickering dangerously high in tangent to the Count's current temper.

"I see the truth in your eyes, Vladimir," the older vampire murmured, his sudden severity making the two siblings glance at each other. Their father was almost never this sober or exacting. Not unless something drastic had occurred. "And I will take your word on this matter." The man turned to his children, his expression stony. "But now we have another problem at hand. One I have not dealt with in nigh fourteen years. Tell me, my offspring. Do you recall the stories you were once told? Do you remember the tales of those Breathers who foolishly take up the stake? The ones who thoughtlessly plunge into our domains and strike us down? Do you recollect the warnings of those who dare to deem themselves vampire slayers?"

 _Slayers_. The mortals Vlad had only ever heard in stories. He knew they were real, that they existed even today when modern society refused to believe in "fantasy." But never had he actually imagined meeting or encountering one. In Vlad's mind, the Slayers were akin to the Boogieman in normal children's minds. Which was rather foolish on his part, considering all vampires came across a Slayer at least once in their eternal lives.

A hiss escaped Ingrid's lips. "Van Hellsing."

And for once, their father did not tell his daughter to be silent. Instead, he nodded curtly. "Yes. One of the oldest and most prominent of the Slayer bloodlines."

Vlad had not recognized the name at first, but now that his family had pointed it out, he knew exactly why his father had abruptly conceded to his children's attending Breather school. If this Van Hellsing was indeed the one all three of them were thinking about, then blending in would be the wisest choice. Perhaps the Count could easily handle the Slayer – Vlad's father had six hundred years of experience and power after all – but if they attracted attention, they would draw the eyes of the entire Slayer organization. And  _that_  would be a problem since they were currently geographically detached from their kind and Vlad couldn't really any interruption in his magical schooling.

"I suppose I have to go, then," Ingrid replied. Her father's approval with her earlier recognition of the Van Hellsing name had clearly done wonders to her compliance. Then her face twisted into distaste. "But why must I stay the entire day? You could have told that Breather an excuse for me as well."

"Unless you wish to find a stake through your heart before you even come of age, I suggest you do as your told, girl," the Count snapped, his approval gone faster than the blink of an eye. "And the last time I checked, you were not invited to study magic. Vladdy cannot waste more time than he must in Breather school; he has far more important matters to attend to."

A furious red had begun to color Ingrid's face again, but Vlad's sudden laughter made her freeze. It was elated and borderline hysterical. And honestly, if he were asked, Vlad wouldn't have been able to say why he had abruptly found it appropriate to think the situation funny. But one thing was for sure: he had finally gotten what he had wanted thanks to a Slayer, of all things.

"I'm going to school!"

* * *

**This chapter was significantly different from canon. Partly because my story is less comedic than the TV show. The Count won't just freak out because of a mob of Breathers; he could probably eat them all before they did so much as take a few steps. He didn't run from Transylvania because he was afraid of a mob and he certainly didn't allow Vlad to go to school because of the threat of a mob.**

**Till next time!**


	21. Mr. Van Helsing

**Chapter 21: Mr. Van Helsing**

The Count's mood fluctuated during the week preceding Vlad's first day to Breather school. At times, he was in such a fury that Vlad made a point of staying at the opposite end of the castle to escape his father's violent tendencies. He seriously doubted that the Count would hurt him, but Vlad made it his duty to save his Hogwarts belongings, Nox, and Zoltan from destruction. He had become rather adept at repairing spells and it was often with a sigh that he went to repair the objects of his father's irritation once the older vampire had calmed down. Ingrid took vindictive pleasure in Vlad's ailments; it was her only consolation after she had been immediately shipped off to school the day following the headmistress's visit.

Yet at other times, the Count would be in a sort of glee. It was usually after he had eaten for the night and it was during those times that Vlad's father would grab his son and whisper to him the fun of "playing" with the Slayers. With a Slayer in town, his father told him, un-life would be far more interesting. Already, the Count was planning something, especially since he blamed the Van Hellsing for forcing him to send his children to a "plebian school." Vlad often tried to escape his father's tirades at first, but after the Count continued to persist, the young vampire had resigned himself to listening.

It seemed that the thrill of having an adversary and the excitement of a new environment had formed into the deadly product that was an overexcited Count Dracula. The man was already dangerously on the edge on a daily basis already; it seemed that the arrival of a Van Helsing had tipped the scales. If Vlad hadn't known his father as well as he did, he would have been worried that something had gone wrong with the man's mental sanity.

It was, ironically enough, on Vlad's first day to Stokely Grammar School that the Count seemed balanced again. Almost unnaturally balanced. Vlad had very nearly dropped his book bag upon seeing his father walk awake into the entrance hall with the sun still up, declaring that he wished to see his son off. The strangeness only continued when the older vampire had commanded Renfield to bring the car up to the front so that the entire family could drive to school. The  _entire_  family – including Ingrid.

Vlad's jaw felt tempted to drop and Ingrid was just staring incredulously. Both of them had expected to walk to school and by blood and bats did they know how much their father loathed traveling during the day.

It was every bit as embarrassing as Vlad had expected, driving up to the front of the school in a large, black car. But a touch of gratitude towards his father for even bothering to come this far made the young vampire overlook it for once. He bid his father a rather hasty goodbye and reached for the door handle, but the Count quickly said, "Wait." Vlad glanced anxiously back at his father, praying that the man had not changed his mind last minute. "I have a good luck gift."

To say that Vlad was now beyond surprised would have been an understatement. What had brought this abnormal turn from the Count? Wasn't it just yesterday that his father was fuming about how the "filthy Slayer" had "sentenced his children to a mindless institution?"

"Now these are a pair of ancient brooches that have been passed down within our family for centuries. They have our coat of arms and I want you to have it."

Vlad looked at the brooches in his father's hands and his eyes roamed over the carefully carved surface. The ornament was made almost entirely of pyrope garnet – blood red of course – touched with gold accents. The dragon form that the stone took was unmistakable.

"This is for you," the Count said, placing one of the brooches into Vlad's hands before the boy could so much as mumble in slight protest. "And Ingrid…it is such a pity you were born a girl."

Vlad tried not to grimace at the brief flicker of crushed hope that his sister had been portraying. The very moment the brooches had been mentioned, Ingrid had been pleased and almost excited. After all, why would their father bring out two if not to give one to each of his children? At the rejection though, a shuttered off look of fury enveloped Ingrid's face and she snarled, "You're a heartless, spineless, self-centered bully." Bitterness touched her voice. "And so am I, but you just can't see it."

And Vlad knew in that moment that Ingrid did not feel the superior vampire that she was, but a daughter who had just been denied a family heirloom as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience within the household.

Ingrid didn't hesitate to storm out of the vehicle and the moment she was gone, the Count muttered, "That girl will be the death of me."

"I'll see you later, Dad," Vlad quickly blurted and hurried to follow his sister. He knew he should have said something, done something to defend Ingrid perhaps. But he couldn't change his father's mind about that and ignoring it would probably be the best path to take.

"Don't forget to come home by noon! And don't forget your cape!" the Count called out as Vlad exited, but the younger vampire merely pretended to have not heard and continued up the steps and into the school. He knew he would have to leave school early as his father desired – the school actually believed it when his father said he had his son required only a half-day schedule for health related reasons. But Vlad shoved the brooch into one of his pockets, absolutely refusing to walk into class – even a summer class where there were fewer students – like a complete weirdo.

Stepping into the school halls, Vlad felt a brief moment of contentment. Here he was, finally being completely and utterly normal. Even if he did love Hogwarts, there was something liberating about knowing he could be among completely mundane humans as well.

But the moment was only that: a moment. In the next second, a very familiar pair of brown eyes and a head full of dark brown hair seemingly materialized in front of him. "Hi Vlad!"

Vlad sighed to himself before replying, "Hi Robin. Maybe…well, maybe you should be a little more discreet about this? You're the only one who knows and I'd like it to stay that way."

"About what?"

Vlad sighed and rubbed his forehead. This guy really didn't know how to take a hint. "What part of 'dangerous vampire out for your blood' do you not understand? It's a miracle my father didn't catch you the first two times you decided it was smart to visit my house. And my sister already saw you – which she kept quiet about but now I owe her something for that – and who knows what will happen if she thinks we're too familiar?"

"Oh, come on," Robin cheered. "It can't be that bad. I'm even willing to donate some blood if it really gets that drastic."

"You really don't get it." Disbelief was etched on to Vlad's face. "My father isn't just going to accept  _some_  of your blood. My family takes particular pride in sucking dry every prey that comes their way."

"Ugh. Fine. I'll try to keep this top secret. But you just don't get how mindlessly  _boring_  it is down here sometimes. I'd give anything to be a vampire."

Vlad just rolled his eyes. He had already gotten the hint that nothing would really deter the other boy from his fantasies. "Why are you in summer school anyway? I thought only failing students and transfers went to school now."

Robin shrugged. "I never said I was a great student."

"Well, I suppose we can talk more often now. Just make sure you're careful when my father's around. I don't know whether he will be picking me up or not, but he did drop me off today."

"Your Dad can walk in sunlight like you and Ingrid?"

"No. He can't. But cars with curtains are great alternatives." Vlad exhaled and ran a hand over his face. "Just be careful around me, okay? My father's been a little…off lately."

"Why?"

"Apparently there's a new carpenting teacher. And his last name is  _Van Helsing_."

Robin stared and blinked for a long moment before something abruptly clicked in his mind and he guffawed. "You're kidding. That part of the story is real too?"

"The part where the guy is a Slayer? That is definitely true."

"Awesome! I was wondering why it had worked."

Vlad only had to blink once before something clicked into place and he had to resist the temptation to hit some sense into his new and strange friend. "Please tell me you weren't the one who told the headmistress about us living in the castle."

"Technically it wasn't me," Robin defended. "I just…happened to mention it to my parents."

"And your parents told Ms. Harker. Great. Brilliant. If my father ever finds out about this, your family will probably be next on the biting list after Van Helsing."

They didn't have any more time for conversation when the warning bell abruptly rang and the two of them were forced to rush to their first class together.

As the day progressed, it became achingly clear that while Vlad excelled in some subjects, there were others that he had never truly focused on before. Literature was a breeze compared to the old tomes his household and Hogwarts had to offer and history was easily understandable as well as something he could catch up to quickly. But when it came to mathematics and the sciences, Vlad was more than a little lost. The furthest his education had gone in math was simple addition, subtraction, and multiplication for economic purposes and his knowledge in science was literally akin to a five-year-old's. His family was filled with vampires and he had been attending a wizarding boarding school; neither offered anything remotely close to biology or chemistry. It was easy to see why Vlad had never studied those fields considering vampires and wizards defied almost all logical sense.

But that was hardly the day's greatest revelation. The classes he attended were barely half full considering it was still summer break, but even then it was easy to see that fate had a strange way of ostracizing him. Robin had seemed strange when Vlad had first met him – that was for sure. But the young vampire hadn't thought far ahead enough to realize that other people his age would think so too. At least for Vlad, capes and dark colors were almost the norm. For the other students, Robin eccentric at the very best.

It wasn't that hard to figure out that Robin was actively excluded. People avoided him and called him everything from freak to creep. If it hadn't been for Robin's elder, rugby playing twin brothers, Vlad had no doubt that physical bullying would have also been a part of his friend's daily routine.

A part of Vlad tasted regret – a regret that he would not quite have a normal experience even surrounded with non-magical, non-vampiric people. But a larger (a much larger) part of him was slightly angry for his friend. Robin was strange, no doubt about it. But he wasn't unkind and he certainly never had malicious intent towards anything. He didn't deserve the kind of treatment he was given.

So when morning break came around, Vlad made sure to sit himself with Robin even if they were completely alone and to the side of the hall.

"Ugh," the human boy groaned. "I hate school."

Personally, Vlad thought his friend had the potential to do perfectly fine in his schoolwork. The few classes he did have with Robin showed not that the other didn't understand the material, but that he preferred to doodle bats and potions on the side margins.

But it really wasn't up to Vlad to lecture his friend; he was sure Robin's family did that more than enough. Instead, he sighed, "What are we going to do in carpentry class?"

"Carpentry class?"

"Robin. I thought we were just talking about the very real possibility that I might get stabbed through the heart with a piece of wood just a few hours ago."

The other boy blinked over his sandwich. "We have carpentry?"

"Apparently summer classes offer no other extra curricular," Vlad frowned. "And it's required. Trust me when I say I wouldn't be taking the class if I didn't have to."

Robin blinked again and shrugged. "It can't be that bad. When the actual school year starts I'm sure you can just transfer to a different extra curricular."

And then it struck Vlad that he had yet to tell the other boy that for the three-quarters of the year, he would be gone. As much as the young vampire was eager about the possibility of a normal school even with a slightly-less-than-normal friend, he had no intention of staying during the school year. Vlad was still set on going to Hogwarts if only for the possibility of finding a cure for his vampirism.

"Uh, Robin, I'm not going to be here during the actual school year."

The other boy raised an eyebrow. "See, I told you you'd want to never come back once you'd gotten a taste of it. School is a virtual prison I tell you."

"No, it's not that," Vlad sighed. "I actually attend a boarding school in Scotland. This is just my summer break."

Robin opened his mouth and then closed it, a crease now dominating his forehead. "What? But I thought…then why are you even coming to summer school? You don't need to be here if you already go to a boarding school. And if you are going to boarding school, why is it that you don't know half the stuff we're learning?" Then, confusion and dismay turned into understanding and slight excitement. "But it's not a normal school, is it?" Robin leaned in, a grin now tugging his lips up in a conspiring smirk. "It's a  _vampire_  school."

Well, in some ways it was good thing Robin hadn't actually guessed correctly. "Sure," Vlad replied with a tight smile. "You could say that."

"I can't believe you. Why didn't you tell me this before? This is so awesome! Do you think I could attend? Maybe if I applied and pretended –"

Vlad quickly interrupted before the other boy could get any more ideas. "I don't think that's a good idea. They're figure out you're not a vampire in a heartbeat and then I might end up having to explain to your parents why you're  _dead_  at the end of the school year."

"Maybe if you just turned me into a vampire –"

"Don't even think of asking me that. Don't you ever think of asking me that." Vlad's voice had turned frigid . Turning his only human friend into a vampire was the last thing he wanted to do; he didn't want to condemn Robin to the same, eternal fate he had.

The swift rejection had the other boy abruptly quiet and he seemed to flounder for something to say before sighing. "Well, you never answered my question. Why are you here if you're going to be gone nearly the entire year anyway?"

"Because I want to. And because how else am I going to meet up with you every day for the summer? There's no way my father is going to let me come down here without a good reason."

There was a bewildered look on Robin's face and it made Vlad a little sad to realize that the other boy might never have had somebody outside of his family say they wanted to do something illogical for his sake. It seemed unlikely that Robin had ever really had a friend before and Vlad might have believed that to be the common factor keeping them together had it not been for the fact that Draco had – in a strange sort of unofficial way – already been the young vampire's first companion.

The sad thing was, Vlad wasn't exactly telling the truth when he said he was doing all of this for Robin. Yes, part of it  _was_  true. But a part of it also had to do with the fact that the young vampire wanted normalcy so badly he was willing to fight his dangerously powerful and temperamental father for it. Another part of it was that he hadn't known there was a Slayer in the school before he had begun to argue his case. And when his father had finally agreed to allow his son attendance amongst the "peasants," Vlad had been too stubborn to give up what he had started a feud over. He certainly didn't want to risk his life for somebody he had just met, but facing the Count and admitting he was wrong made Vlad cringe. Surely, he reasoned with himself, a Slayer wouldn't be so brash as to hunt him down in the middle of an entire population of normal students?

Robin had been silent for so long at that point that it began to seem like Vlad might have short-circuited something in Robin's brain. But the human boy quickly burst out of his impasse and spluttered, "Well, okay. Thanks, I suppose." He searched for something to say, blurting, "Uh, well, about that carpenter problem I'm just thinking that if you don't make a big deal out of it and act like you normally do you probably won't get caught. If I didn't know you were – well – what you are, I wouldn't have been able to tell."

"That…was probably the nicest thing anybody has ever told me." Vlad smiled, a little relieved to have the topic changed and the matter of his schooling settled for now.

Robin scowled and raised his eyebrows. "You  _are_  a strange."

"Like you're one to say anything," said a distinctly young and female voice behind Vlad. The young vampire whirled around in slight shock and came face to face with a girl who probably should have been still in primary school. "Ignore him. My brother thinks he's a vampire. He  _actually_  believes bloodsucking humans exist. Sad, isn't it?"

Vlad gaped a little. "Did you say brother?"

"Yes, I'm Chloe Branaugh. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Vlad. Are you…ahead of your class by any chance?" It was a little difficult to think that anybody that petit could be already their age or older.

There was an unmistakable pride in the girl's eyes when she proudly replied, "Yes. I'm three years ahead, in fact. I'm taking extra courses during the summer so that I can, perhaps, graduate early. And I have to thank you by the way, for being friends with Robin. You're probably one of the first –"

"Chloe," Robin coughed heavily into his hand. "Um, isn't the bell about to ring in a minute?"

"No it…oh it is! I'll see you later!" And in a whirlwind of blonde hair and textbooks, the young girl was gone and out the cafeteria doors to her next class. The exit left Vlad with a distinct reminder of a certain bookworm back at Hogwarts.

Not a moment later, the shrill bell made Vlad cringe and his stomach sank at the realization that his next class was with a Slayer.

~0~

"Alright settle down, class!" When the students continued to throw paper planes, the man raised his voice and repeated, "I said settle!"

This time, the class did quiet down and Vlad tried his very hardest to shrink into his seat. Robin had wanted to sit in the front for bats knew why, but the young vampire had managed to convince his friend that it would be much better to be somewhere less noticeable.

"My name is Mr. Van Helsing. And I am here to help you turn wood into could." Only a few students managed to catch the pun. When only a few scattered chuckles greeted the man's opening, he continued, "Now, I apologize if it is a little cold. Apparently, there is a problem with the heaters."

Maybe it was Vlad's paranoia and pre-conceived ideas of what a Slayer should be, but Mr. Van Helsing was as unnerving as any vampire hunter he had heard about. The man certainly seemed to have the stature for it with his tall body clearly at the peak of its physical capability. The man's hands seemed  _made_  to fit a wooden stake in it and every twitch of his eyes made Vlad cringe at the possibility of being discovered.

Vlad felt his breath catch in his throat when the man's gaze suddenly locked on to his. Did the Slayer think the cold was due to an undead presence? It was a well-known fact that vampires exuded a sort of cold, but it was hardly noticeable unless through direct contact. Surely the man hadn't already figured out Vlad was –

"You, there!"

"Yes?" Vlad immediately blurted in his panic.

"Not you," Mr. Van Helsing scowled. "Your friend there. The one who is  _doodling_  in my class."

At that, Robin quickly glanced up, a slightly surprised look on his face.

"Put that rubbish away. When you are in my class, you will pay attention. Now, would everybody take out their notebooks please?"

There was a dark glower on Robin's face as he placed his drawing into his bag. "I wonder what crawled up his arse and died?"

"Robin, could you please not attract any more attention to us?" Vlad pleaded. "I almost had a heart attack there."

"But this is so boring. I could be doing anything else right now and I'm here learning how to cut up wood of all things." Robin continued to mutter to himself about the absolute waste of time school was, but Vlad had stopped listening. His eyes had caught upon a very familiar brooch just peeking out of his friend's bag.

"Is that mine?" Vlad asked, astonished.

This time, guilt cut Robin short. "Well, it kind of dropped out of your pockets on our way to class this morning and I –"

" – stole it."

"No! I was keeping it safe. Protecting it."

"That's a load of garlic," Vlad hissed. Didn't Robin know when to stop? Not only was stealing wrong within itself, but it the very fact that the object stolen was an heirloom made Vlad bristle even more. He didn't want it; he had shoved it away this morning for a reason. But there was a deep-seated instinct to protect what was his – especially since it was his family's. "Give it back."

"Well, I can see you two are going to be a problem," Mr. Van Helsing said, suddenly looming over them and making whatever hostility Vlad had been harboring disappear in sheer panic. "A brooch I see? Well I will hold that for now, boys. We wouldn't want you being distracted during my class, now do we?" The man turned to the rest of the class. "The rest of you get on with your work, then!"

Immediate shuffling followed the teacher's command as the man turned to the two boys in front of him. "Give the brooch to me."

And then Vlad wanted to fade into the floor because as Robin handed the ornament over, there was an undeniable gleam of recognition in the man's eyes. Of course he would recognize it. What decent Slayer didn't know the Dracula coat of arms? It was at times like this that Vlad cursed his ancestors for painting their insignia for the entire world to see upon their victims.

"Whose is this?" Mr. Van Helsing asked.

What was he going to say? Vlad couldn't say it was his, but he also couldn't just let the man take his family's inheritance. His mind felt blank and he was starting to consider taking the Invisibility Cloak out from underneath his bed for school purposes.

"It's mine." Robin said, resigned. And Vlad tried his very hardest not to look at his friend incredulously. He felt slightly worried that it would be Robin who would be taking the punishment, but relief quickly overcame it.

"See me after class. What was your last name?"

"Branaugh."

"It was clear Mr. Van Helsing didn't believe it.

~0~

Jonno Van Helsing would not have said that living with his father was difficult, per se. Eric Van Helsing tried best, especially for a woodworking teacher who moved every few years from town to town in a portable trailer. The man always tried to save some time for his son and when Jonno requested something – as rare as it was – the man never hesitated to comply. Their life was far from glamorous, but it was their way of living and Jonno was content with it.

Or he would have been, if it hadn't been for the one quirk his father was completely obsessed with.

Jonno could still remember the arguments his parents used to get into over the topic. He never missed it when they did, even if his mother and father had tried to settle their differences away from their son's notice. Always, it was about the "family tradition" Eric Van Helsing was determined to see continued. And maybe Jonno would have been okay with it if it were stamp collecting or bad cooking. But, as fate would have it, Eric Van Helsing was convinced his family was and always had been a clan of vampire slayers.

There were so many things wrong with it Jonno didn't even know where to begin.

Animal slaying? Okay. Plant destruction? Maybe not eco-friendly, but something they could work with. Vampire hunting? Vampires didn't even exist, yet one of Jonno's earliest memories was of his father showing him the many stakes that had been "passed down."

His mother had gotten sick of it and left to follow her own path. Jonno had wanted nothing more than to beg for his family to stay together, but he had to make a choice and between the two who had fostered him, he knew that his father needed him more than his mother did.

So for the past six years of his life, he had been living with his traveling father, having to constantly convince the countless police, principals, and other various witnesses that his father's belief in vampires was all a joke and nothing more. It worked for a little while, but they always had to move in the end. They didn't really have a choice when Jonno's father decided wandering during the nighttime armed with lethal weapons was okay.

Jonno would have been lying if he said that he wasn't tired of it. He was. He didn't want to always have to go to new schools, always take defense classes to comfort his father, or constantly be that one strange boy with a strange father. All he wanted was to have a place to settle and to have his mother back. But he stuck it out and tried his best to moderate his father's obsession when he could.

So when he had sat through his first day of summer school in his father's class, he was less surprised and more irritated that his father had  _already_  pegged one of the students – of all people – as a potential vampire.

"I just know it," Eric Van Helsing whispered conspiringly. "It couldn't be any more obvious! This brooch is the Dracula coat of arms. The  _Dracula_  coat of arms! Jonno, do you have any idea how big this chance is?"

Jonno sighed. He, of course, hadn't missed the spectacle his father had caused in the middle of class earlier; he had been there. Robin and Vlad – if Jonno could remember their names correctly – had certainly been distracted during the lesson, but they hardly deserved the severity that Eric Van Helsing had subjected them to. That had been the indicator that the man believed one of the boys more than a mere human going to summer school.

"Dad," Jonno relied, placating. "Maybe it's a little too early to see. We just moved here. Today is your first day teaching. Don't you think you're being hasty?"

"But I know for sure this time, Jonno! This insignia is unmistakable! Every Slayer knows this coat of arms –"

"Fine," Jonno cut in, knowing that his father could go on for ages. "Robin will be coming in soon to get the brooch back. Why don't you try to prove to me then? Without immediately staking him?"

"Yes, yes. Good idea, Jonno. Lure the bloodsucker into a false sense of security and then I'll get him!"

It took the younger boy all his self-control not to groan aloud. Instead, he walked into the closet in the classroom and shut it, looking out the small door-window and nodding at his father to indicate he was ready.

Not a moment later, a boy with pastel skin and black hair tentatively stuck his neck inside. Honestly, it was a little easy to see why Eric Van Helsing found it so easy to believe the boy a vampire. Robin Branaugh certainly looked the part – at least slightly more so than his friend. Vlad, at least, did not wear capes to school.

"You wanted to see me?" Robin's voice was surprisingly steady.

"Oh, yes. Branaugh, come in. I've…just been admiring this brooch of yours." Jonno let out a heavy breath as he saw his father fingering the ornament and glaring at the student in front of him.

"I brought it in for a history project. But my Dad made me promise to bring it straight back home. It's a family heirloom."

The boy then quickly moved as if to take back the brooch. But the woodworking teacher pointedly clasped his hand over the object and held it further away from Robin's reach. "Your father? And tell me…where is your  _father_  at this moment?"

"Well, he's probably just getting a bite to eat right about now –"

"Oh, a bite to eat?" Eric's voice dropped into a frigid cold. "I know what your father does. It's no use to keep on hiding it from me."

"Um, he's a plumber. If that's what you mean."

Jonno wanted to slap a hand for his forehead. Was his father really going after a  _plumber_  for goodness sake? At this rate, they were going to have to move in a week.

"A plumber, hm? Well then I'm sure he wouldn't have a problem coming down now during the day to check out the air conditioning."

"Oh, I'm sure he would," Robin replied quickly. "I know what you mean. It must be burning to teach in a class like this. I'll give you his number." Before his teacher could reply, the young Branaugh pulled out a blank sheet of paper and scribbled the contact information with a pen he had picked up off the nearby teacher's desk. Jonno could see the slightly stunned look on his father's face; he had clearly expected a completely different reaction. "Um, could I have my brooch back now?"

For a moment, it seemed like Jonno's father was considering it. But then he shook his head and growled out, "No. Your father can come and pick it up after school today."

And to think Jonno was beginning to believe his father had been improving.

~0~

Vlad didn't even have to wait for Robin to tell him what had happened. "I know," the young vampire had said the moment his friend stepped out of the classroom empty handed. "I guess we'll just have to find another way to get it back."

Robin blinked before demanding, "How did you know he didn't give the brooch back to me?"

"Well, you aren't carrying it." That was the obvious answer. Vlad didn't need to tell Robin that he had quickly tacked an eavesdropping charm on his friend's cape before he had gone in.

"Is it really that important? Maybe you can tell your Dad you lost it."

"And have him kill me?"

"Well that's alright, isn't it? You're dead already."

The words cut at Vlad and he hastily opened his mouth to retort and argue that no, he wasn't dead yet. He was human. He wasn't some bloodsucking monster that took sadistic pleasure in creating pain or –

"Who's dead already?"

Vlad very nearly jumped at the sound of Chloe's voice right beside him. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he had missed the younger Branaugh coming up to them.

"Oh, I get it," the girl scoffed. "You're a vampire too, aren't you?"

"What?" Vlad blurted, suddenly panicked. "No, no it was just something Robin came up with!"

"Right…we mustn't let everybody know that you're all  _vampires –_ " Chloe was abruptly cut off when a chalk-white hand clasped itself over her mouth, elegant fingernails long enough to cut the lips they rested on.

"Ingrid!" Vlad exclaimed. Things were just going from bad to worse. "It's alright! She knows Robin was just joking!"

"Agh!" the elder Dracula hissed and quickly jerked her hand away from Chloe's mouth in pain. A fiery anger lit up Ingrid's eyes as she snatched the younger girl up by her collar. "You little  _Breather_. You've got some nerve. We bite  _you_ , not the other way around."

"Oh," Chloe replied airily and with more than a little touch of contempt. "You're a vampire too? Well that explains why Robin has been so cheerful lately; he's found a crazy lot to hang around with."

Good garlic this girl was signing her death warrant.

"I suggest you learn how to address your superiors," Ingrid said, ice freezing her voice with a surprising amount of control keeping her composed. She seemed poised to strike or lash good. But at the last moment she seemed to pull herself in and instead snapped, "What are you still doing here, Vlad? Doesn't Daddy-dearest want you home?" It was obvious she was still irked about having to stay the whole day amongst Breathers while her brother was excused to return home in order to study his Hogwarts material.

Vlad hastily nodded and shrugged his book bag on more securely for the walk back home. But as he began to back to the castle, Robin's hand grasped the crook of his elbow and the other boy whispered, "We'll get it back. I'll meet you here after school."

Vlad wanted to tell Robin that the idea was crazy, that they would have to find some other way of doing it without anything remotely attention-catching or illegal. But his friend was more intelligent than a lot of people gave him credit for and Robin was already leaving towards the opposite direction beside his sister, leaving Vlad with no choice but to leave the comment as is. He could hardly kick up a large fuss around Ingrid. If he did, she would no doubt realize that her brother had lost a valuable family heirloom and then the Count would inevitably learn of it the moment she got home.

* * *

**I just realized I completely misspelled "Helsing" in the last chapter. I spelled it "Hellsing" and there is only supposed to be one "L" in the word. So I fixed it this chapter and expect all the following chapters to have it correctly spelled!**

**And to clarify, yes Vlad can do magic outside of school. The Trace is put on registered wands. Vlad doesn't even use one and they don't know to put it on the bangle around his arm so he's home-free with his magic usage as far as I'm concerned.**

 

Till next time!


	22. A Reminder

**A Reminder**

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Jonno said tiredly, stifling a rather large yawn with the hand that wasn't holding the bag filled with garlic and wooden stakes sharpened to lethality. How his father managed to run off and return with the entire arsenal during the lunch break was beyond him. "You have to prepare your teaching material for tomorrow and I have to finish my homework. It won't help us any if we're tired. And didn't you promise me that you would lay off the slaying for a little while? At least until we were completely settled down?"

"This is a golden chance, Jonno," Eric Van Helsing murmured. "The Draculas! Who would have thought they would be here – in Stokely!"

"So you really think they're going to come here. After school. In the middle of broad daylight. Just to take back a brooch?"

"It is one of their heirlooms and it holds their coat of arms. They have to get it back if they want to protect their family honor. No vampire allows outsiders to bear, let alone hold, their family emblem."

Goodness, it sounded like the bloody middle ages. Jonno sighed at his father's eager explanations and repeatedly told himself that he would sit this out, if only to prove his father wrong. Nobody in their right mind would come for something as silly as this. Jonno had a feeling he would be sitting miserably on the cold floor for the rest of the evening with absolutely nothing to show for it.

Just idea of another handful of hours dedicated to his father's fantasies made Jonno want to groan in despair. Instead, he said, "I think I'll go get us something to drink from the cafeteria then." His father only nodded once, muttering the whole while to himself about preparations and security measures.

He was about a hall and a left turn away from the lunchroom when he spotted a familiar vampire-labeled student trying to open a locker with an arm full of notebooks. It wasn't hard to recognize Robin when he was wearing a cape and Jonno decided that this was probably as good a time as any for an apology.

"Hey, Robin, I –"

The black-haired boy yelped and immediately dropped everything in his hands. The books and pencils clattered to the floor as Robin whirled around to raise a defensive arm. It took the other boy a few seconds to realize that it was only another student. "Oh, hey. Uh…is there anything you need?"

Jonno knelt down and picked up the books Robin had dropped and began handing it to him while saying, "Look, I'm really sorry about my dad. I know this is probably a little more than weird but…well…everybody has their quirks, right?"

There was clearly some skepticism in Robin's face, but he replied, "I guess."

"I would help you if I could," Jonno continued in an effort to fix the damage his father had done. "I really don't want to burn any bridges on my first day in Stokely, you know?"

It wasn't necessarily an understanding glint in Robin's eyes, but there was something new in those dark orbs and a slight smile finally touched his features. "Really? That's pretty awesome of you."

"Like I said, I just want to start off the year well, that's all."

Robin seemed to contemplate something, mull it over briefly in his mind, before grasping Jonno's arm. "I know what you mean. So, uh, I was just wondering if you could help me get my brooch back?"

Jonno frowned at that. "Look, I would but my dad is really not going to give it back unless he meets your dad. It shouldn't be too long until you have it again. My dad called yours during lunch and they're going to meet after school."

Robin paled a little. "They are?"

"You didn't know?"

"Then it's even more important for you to help me get my brooch back. I'm sure your dad wouldn't notice it's gone."

"I hope you know you're asking me to go behind my dad's back," Jonno frowned. "And as much as I would like to help you, I don't think –"

"But I really, really need it! My parents are going to skin me alive if they find out I've lost something so important to my family!"

"But –"

"It's at least two hundred years old," Robin pleaded, gripping Jonno's arm even harder. "Please? It was a remnant of one of my Mum's family."

Good lord, if he put it that way…

"Fine," Jonno relented. Normally, he would never be doing this for a person he had just met. But after so many incidents where his father had misinterpreted something and caused the people around him grief, Jonno was getting a little tired of it all. Maybe just this once he would have to  _show_  his dad that acting the way he wanted without any thought of the consequences was not the way to go.

~0~

Vlad felt a little sick to his stomach. After coming home, his father had promptly flitted up to greet him and question him about his first day of school. Not only was that still disconcerting and a little more than creepy, but it also made Vlad uneasy.

Now he couldn't even focus on the Defense Against the Dark Arts book in his lap. The only thing he could think of was the missing brooch and how slowly the time seemed to be passing. He could only hope that Robin had a plan because Vlad was still wondering how on earth he was going to deal with a Slayer on a daily basis when their first encounter had gone so poorly.

A rumbling purr against his back brought Vlad out of his brooding. He blinked a few times before sighing and turning to face his familiar. It had been a little odd to come home from school to see a panther lounging on his bed, but he wasn't going to complain when Nox proceeded to make himself Vlad's personal warming pillow. It was almost as if the feline had sensed his master's distress and comforted accordingly.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Vlad mumbled. "Any ideas?"

Nox gave him a bland look before turning his head towards the window nearest them. The very same window Robin had come climbing in before.

"Oh, no. I am  _not –_ " Vlad sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he shut his Defense Against the Dark Arts text shut. "You'll keep my dad away from the room?" Vlad would have been hard pressed to find any panther that looked more insulted. "Fine."

It wasn't until a good few hours later, after Vlad was sure his father had gone back to his coffin, that he had Nox's large form blocking the doorway and his coat on for the climb out. He had made sure to place a locking charm on his room's entrance to keep his sister out once she returned from school, but he just hoped he would be back before his father woke up. The last time he had tried using his magic to keep the Count out, the charms had done little against the prowess of a centuries-old vampire.

This seemed to be becoming a regular thing, Vlad noted to himself as he clambered out of his room's window. Sneaking about and doing things behind the backs of others wasn't something he had planned on making a common occurrence and yet here he was doing it again. His feet touched the ground in a soft thump as he tried to reason with himself why fate was seemingly making its personal mission to destroy any plans he had for himself and it was only a few minutes later before he was standing a block away from Stokely Grammar School just in time for the last bell that signified summer school for the day was over to ring and a horde of students to come walking out.

Vlad knew that Robin had something in mind. He hadn't had the human for a friend for very long, but there seemed to be nothing that could deter the vampire enthusiast. And as tempting as it was to try and do what he had to do on his own to get the brooch back, it was more than likely that his plans would counteract Robin's and the brooch would still be in the hands of a Slayer.

He crept through the parking lot slowly but with an unafraid air. He did not know very many people yet and as long as he behaved as if he should be there, they would not think anything was out of the ordinary. Technically, Vlad should not be back; he had been given special permission to leave at the beginning of lunch every day in order to accommodate his "special situation": the need to finish and study his Hogwarts material.

Vlad was halfway through the array of cars and headed towards one of the school's side doors when he noticed one particularly bright yellow family van parked in the guest section. Normally, this would not have caught his attention, but he could have sworn he's seen it before…

"Vlad!" a voice hissed.

The young vampire jumped and turned to see Robin panting heavily and a panicked look in his eyes. "Robin? But how did you know –"

"You have to come! I tried getting your brooch back and I was planning for it all throughout the rest of the day, but just as school was going to end, I convinced Jonno – you know, the Slayer's kid – to help me and he is, but he called my Dad to come and he thinks my family is filled with vampires and now Mr. Van Hellsing is going to try and stake him!"

It was all blurted out in a convoluted mess. But Vlad managed to keep up and suddenly he realized why he had recognized the yellow van; it had been Mr. Branaugh's. No sooner had the young vampire managed to wrap his mind around the situation then Robin grabbed his arm and they were running into the school and through the halls.

Vlad could feel the tight clench of his friend's hand, and it was the first time the young vampire had ever seen anything other than blissful excitement or sulky moodiness color Robin's expression. The situation had to be serious. And Vlad wasn't so sure how he was going to help.

They came to an abrupt stop just outside of Mr. Van Hellsing's room and peered inside. Mr. Branaugh was on the floor, unmoving and the Slayer was standing up, his right hand clutching a sharpened stake to plunge into the innocent man's chest. But the only thing that kept both Robin and Vlad outside and only observing was the fact that Jonno was standing in between the two in the room and protesting to his father.

"Dad, this is crazy. You have to stop. I won't let this continue!"

The Slayer gritted his teeth, veins beginning to appear with the tension within his body. "Jonno, move out of the way."

"You can't do this! You didn't even speak to Robin's dad! All you did was knock him out the minute he walked in –"

"Oh, so it's  _Robin_  now. The bloodsucker has already gotten to you, Jonno. I promise that little cretin will be the next to be slain."

"Can't you see that this man couldn't hurt a fly?" Jonno pleaded with anger, frustration, and near-despair in his voice. "We've been through this so many times, Dad. And how many times have I been right? That there was nothing wrong with all of those people you staked for the 'good of the town?' That you just can't let go of this stupid obsession of yours?"

"Jonno."

"Don't do this to me again, Dad! Give Robin back his brooch and let his dad go too. They are normal people. They aren't vampires. Don't do this again and make me pick up my life like I have been doing ever since Mom left."

That last sentence made Mr. Van Hellsing hesitate, a flicker of an old pain darting across his eyes. And for a fleeting moment, Vlad was inclined to believe that this situation would actually work out and he would get his brooch back like Robin would get his father back safely. But then the Slayer's eyes steeled and he leaned down while pushing his son away with his forearm to deliver the killing blow.

Robin and Jonno shouted just as Vlad was moving before he could properly think. He grasped the handle of the room's door and shoved it open with a resounding crash against the wall it collided with. The Slayer looked up reflexively at the noise and then spotted Vlad standing at the entrance. If the young vampire could have seen himself, he would have been more than a little frightened that he was baring his teeth in an instinctive snarl, as if he already had fangs to bare at his opponent.

"What is this? What are you doing here? School is out."

"What are you doing with that stake, Mr. Van Hellsing? Going to stab an innocent man with it?"

"You are Vladimir, aren't you? That boy Robin's friend."

"And proud," Vlad spat back, something primal pushing him to lash out at the Slayer in front of him. "Let him go."

"I'm not –"

"I said," Vlad repeated slowly while staring into the Slayer's eyes. "Let him go."

When nothing happened for a few seconds, the young vampire was afraid that for all his studying about the art of hypnotizing, he had failed spectacularly and Robin's father was going to die because of it and he would never get his family brooch back. But then Mr. Van Hellsing mechanically lowered his stake and stepped away from the unconscious figure.

"You're not going to remember any of this. Your first encounter with Robin was fine, he was just a normal kid and so was his friend, Vlad. They are normal, anything-but-outstanding students in your class who like to sit in the back. Robin's family is not filled with vampires and you never saw the brooch. You never took the brooch and you will not recall anything about the brooch. You will not remember anything connection you made with the Dracula's being here in Stokely and so far, everything has gone brilliantly in your new home. You are going to go home now, a little late today with all of your Slayer's gear because you had been hoping to show your son some of your tricks but the opportunity didn't show so you are just going to rest for the night."

The man nodded slowly, his eyes unfocused and his movements sluggish as he placed the stake back in its bag and gathered his things before walking out of the classroom as if nothing had ever happened.

"Oh my God," Jonno breathed the moment his father stepped out of the door. "My Dad wasn't lying all of this time. He  _wasn't wrong_." There was wonder in the boy's voice and he turned to look at Robin, who was now standing inside of the room. "He was just wrong about which one of you was the vampire."

Vlad saw Jonno's muscles tense and he jumped at the other boy before he could escape. The young vampire slammed his weight against Jonno's body and shoved him to the floor before grabbing his face and forcing them to make eye contact.

"You aren't going to remember anything either. There was never any brooch and you never spoke to Robin outside of class. He is a normal boy and so am I. You are going to go home with your Dad now and everything has been going well so far in Stokely. Your Dad is still crazy and he still believes in vampires – which you  _know_  don't actually exist – but nothing has happened so far and things are completely normal."

Vlad waited a moment to make sure that Jonno was properly hypnotized. Then he climbed off the other boy and watched as he too walked out of the room with a sluggish drag to his steps.

There was no victory in Vlad's mind. There was only stinging bitterness and a hatred that he had known exactly what to do to twist those people, even if they were Slayers, to his will. He couldn't turn to face Robin now either, not when there could either be stunned horror or restrained excitement at the display of inhuman power. So he swiftly moved to the teacher's desk and brushed his fingers over the drawers until one of his silent unlocking spells revealed his family's brooch hidden within.

"Vlad, that was –"

"I have to go home," the young vampire interrupted, his voice tight. "My sister is home by now and my Dad is going to wake up soon."

"Okay…okay. But – Vlad that was amazing of you. Thank you for saving my Dad."

There was sincerity in his friend's voice and Vlad managed to look up and smile a little bit. "Are you going to need help with your Dad?"

"No. He'll probably wake up soon enough and when he does, I'll just come up with something. My parents would believe anything, trust me."

Vlad nodded once and then turned to begin his trek back home.

~0~

He wasn't surprised to climb into his room and see his father already waiting for him. Vlad had almost expected it.

"I got it back," Vlad said dispassionately, because he should have known all this time that his father had known and that this was all a test – a lesson of sorts.

"I knew you would," the Count smiled, a hint of fang accompanying it. He watched as his son extended a hand to return the family heirloom but shook his head. "No, keep it, Vladdy." He stood up and stepped closer, reaching out to close Vlad's fingers over the brooch. "Keep it and remember who you are meant to be."

* * *

**The purpose of this chapter was to show that Vlad - for all of his hopes of a normal life - is still restricted by the way he was born and I needed to introduce the characters from the Young Dracula series. I contemplated keeping Jonno in the loop but I just figured he would turn Slayer if he remembered. And I made Vlad more aggressive in this because in the series he doesn't really use his power at all because he has no idea how to use it. But now that he does, I figured why not? He's been through a lot already at Hogwarts and I doubt he would do still be strict about keeping his power in check when said power erases memories when necessary. He still does hate doing it, but you could say his inhibitions towards doing so were a little numbed from his time at Hogwarts.**

**Again, I'm sorry for taking so long and till next time!**


	23. Magda Westenra

**Chapter 23: Magda Westenra**

"Come on, Vladdy! Fly! Fly like a bat!"

It took a lot of Vlad's willpower not to roll his eyes at his father's insistence and even more not to just climb off the dining table where he was perched at the edge. "Dad, this is stupid."

"It's not stupid. It's fun. Now come on! Every young vampire must learn how to fly."

Vlad could almost taste his sister's annoyance from where she was sitting at the dining room table, observing as her father sat upon his throne instructing her brother. "Then why haven't I been taught yet?"

"Oh, Ingrid. I've already told you: it's because you're a girl. You have no need for this until you've Turned."

It seemed that Ingrid could only stare and shake her head in astonishment at the Count's blatant audacity. It was strange, but something Vlad preferred over her tantrums.

"Look, I've got to get to school," Vlad said, stopping the situation before yet another argument broke out. He neatly jumped down from the table – only but a foot or two away from the ground – to relieve himself of the cloak he wore draped over his uniform. And as he did so, his father smiled in some unknown approval. It seemed that the Count had been in a bright mood ever since Vlad had returned with the brooch and it sometimes bothered the younger vampire how absurdly pleased his father was. From the way the Dracula patriarch had been behaving, it was as if he could suddenly see no wrong in his son.

Vlad's particular observation was supported not a moment later as his father extracted something from within his cloak to present. "You already on your way, Vladdy! Look, you just flew a bit there. Here, take this as a reward."

"But all he did was 'fly' from the table to the ground!" Ingrid exclaimed, gripping her goblet.

Vlad was about to protest as well in an effort to pacify his sister. But then he noted that his father was extending a letter made of parchment and stamped with the unmistakable crest of a two dragons entwined about a white tree. He was elated at what the letter signified and he plucked it from the Count's fingers. Before he could contain his excitement, he turned to his sister and smirked, "I suppose I  _can_  fly."

Ingrid lunged in an effort to snatch the letter, but Vlad moved out of her reach. "You're not seriously rewarding him for that! That is unfair!"

"Oh, Ingrid darling. I will never quite understand your irrational jealously of my favorite child," the Count smiled, mockingly.

"I wouldn't be treated like this if Mum was here."

And Vlad had to stare at that. It was a low blow, even for Ingrid, and everybody there knew it. The particular topic of their mother had always been a delicate one.

Their father's voice was bitter when he replied, "Well she isn't here, is she?"

~0~

The first thing Jonno found when he walked into the school the next morning was his father perched beside his locker.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Shh, Jonno," the man replied. "Vampire surveillance."

"Can't we give Slaying a rest?"

"No, we can't. There are vampires everywhere; I just need to prove it."

Something about that statement seemed off, as if it didn't quite ring right. Jonno frowned a little and furrowed his brow, but reasoned that anything relating to vampires and his father in the same sentence was due its share of confusion and doubt. He scowled at the thought and snapped, "No, what you need is help."

He slammed his locker closed and stalked away from his father, but as he turned he spotted Ingrid, Vlad's sister, walking down the hall with the older twin Branaugh brothers following her. Jonno couldn't help but stare a little just like every other boy did in the hall. She was something to behold. She was dark and undeniably dangerous with her obvious patent for chaos; she had been sent to the principal's office the first day of school for a warning.

But nobody could deny that Ingrid Count was beautiful.

~0~

Vlad watched as his sister ordered Robin's brothers around like obedient dogs and he winced when he saw Jonno walking by her with that now-expected stunned look of a boy starstruck. He knew that his hypnotism had worked yesterday because surely he would have found a stake at his throat the moment he stepped into the school if it hadn't. But Vlad was still unsettled, unused to utilizing that particular ability of his. Looking back, he regretted that he was unable to convince Mr. Van Hellsing that there was no such thing as vampires or Slayers. He had read that anything integral to one's identity or history could not be erased and although Vlad had been sorely tempted to try, he knew that doing so would only result in disaster. Vampires and Hunting was obviously something the man knew far too well and something Jonno had undoubtedly been hearing about since a young age. Taking away something like that would not work in the long term.

Robin had wisely decided not the mention the incident yesterday. Instead he chose to watch Ingrid's irate berating of his brothers with slight excitement and said, "Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the coffin."

"She's just jealous," Vlad teased. "Because I can fly and she can't."

"You'll be flying out the window if you carry on," she snarled. Then, it was as if something had struck her and she smiled viciously. "Oh, and by the way…Mum says hello."

Any pleasure Vlad had gained from obtaining his reward earlier that day (still unopened thanks to the limited time he had to prepare for school) vanished. "Mum? You've spoken to her?"

"I've asked her to stay a couple of days."

"You…what?" Vlad was confused and suddenly angry. Neither of them had ever talked much about their mother over the years and they had never had any inclination to, especially when she stopped replying to any of their letters within a month of her disappearance. The fact that she had chosen to reply to Ingrid now was both worrying and cause for suspicion.

"Don't you want to see her?"

She had no right to speak as if Vlad was the one reacting inappropriately to this. Robin was evidently slightly confused. For all of the human's distaste for his family, he had still been raised with the mentality that one should be happy to see one's mother and he did not know of their family situation. And that just made Vlad all the more infuriated. "I'm sorry, which Mum are we talking about here? The sick, backstabbing witch from Hell?"

"Well, at least she sounds like a proper vampire," Robin said in a poor attempt to relieve the conversation. "You two need some practice."

"I'd watch your mouth, Branaugh," Ingrid hissed as she brushed past the both of them to head to her first class.

Robin watched her go and then turned to look at his friend with a frown. "Are you okay, Vlad?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't I be?" His voice was a more than a little sour.

~0~

It was late that night as Vlad was working on his mathematics homework with Robin pacing behind him in an attempt to avoid his book bag of assignments when his mother arrived. He had convinced his father just the day before to allow his "peasant companion" to visit the castle, using the excuse that he needed Robin as a way to blend in more easily with the crowd. And for once, the Count had allowed it with only a slight stiffness to his consent.

Vlad hadn't expected his mother to show. And neither had Ingrid if she had been telling the truth. He had elaborated so, expounding on how many times their mother had failed them before and how she did not care for them. She had run off with a  _werewolf_  and even in Vlad's efforts to stay away from any vampire-world prejudices he couldn't help but think she could have at least chosen somebody better to disappear with.

Robin, of course, had only perked up at the mention of the existence of werewolves.

So when she did arrive, in all the glamour of her expensive dresses and robes and jewelry and astounding beauty that even Vlad knew she had, the young vampire could only stare in astonishment and a single surprised, "Mum?"

"Hello, Darlings," she smirked, knowing that she had astounded her children.

She hadn't changed a bit. For all of Vlad's attempts to forget her, to erase her missing presence from their household, he could still remember the way her pitch black hair could curl around her shoulders and the way her lips always managed to maintain their blood-red hue as if she had just gone for a bite. He could recall the feel of her elegant fingers as they had once carded through his hair and the stories she had once whispered to him before he fell asleep. He could still recognize the taste of her power, for she was not and had never been a weak vampire.

And it all made him grit his teeth and clench his hands into fists.

Robin could only stare and Vlad knew that was probably all he would be able to do for as long as his mother was present. Most mature female vampires had a naturally alluring effect.

"Oh, Mum, I've missed you!" Ingrid gushed, rushing to hug the Countess. "I hate living with Dad!"

Vlad remained seated at the dining table with his mathematics still in front of him. He could not fathom why his sister was suddenly so attached to their mother. Even if she did despise their father's favoritism, they had spoken on multiple occasions about their shared resentment regarding the Countess. He couldn't quite believe that the Count had driven his sister to do this, to behave as if nothing had ever happened. As if their mother had not dropped them like a used handkerchief she was tired of.

"There, there," their mother comforted. But Vlad knew it was a shallow comfort for he had learned the woman meant little of any the emotions she expressed openly.

But then she turned to him and a smile broke upon her face. "And how is my little Vladdy?" She gently removed her daughter from her and strode over to caress her son's cheek. "I heard the wizards accepted you?"

And suddenly, the Countess's presence was explained. Of course she would seize upon the chance to visit. Nothing was quite valued in the vampire world like power and here she was: the mother of a child attending a wizarding school. It would be to her advantage to remain associated with him.

It seemed Ingrid had not thought of that and the anger – along with a brief flash of pain – was evident on her face. She had counted upon their mother's presence to bring the balance of favoritism to a more even level for the Countess had always appreciated her daughter more. But now all such plans were pushed aside in light of Vlad's prowess again.

The elder vampire did not notice her daughter's plight and continued to croon, "I'm so proud of you, Vlad. I always knew you would do great things."

Suddenly, forced coughing interrupted them and Renfield, good old Renfield with his filth and all, came stumbling into the room. "Who let the skunk in? Oh, it's you Mistress Magda."

This was definitely one of the times Vlad was pleased to have the man around. Renfield disliked their mother just as much as they did because she had always been a rather harsh mistress when she had lived with them and as degrading as their own father normally was, the Countess was much worse.

"You're still around," their mother sniffed. She lifted her bags and threw them at the servant. "Take these down to the spare coffin,  _serf_."

But no sooner had Renfield taken a step that the Count abruptly appeared, his face dark and thunderous.

"Out!"

"But Bon-Bons," she pouted, pursing her lips in the way she knew just drove her past-partner insane.

"Don't call me that," the Count hissed. "Now go on! Back to that mangy dog you left me for!"

Their mother only crossed her arms and simpered, "But Patrick and I are having problems."

"Well you should come crawling back to me. Not after you made your choice."

"I thought I'd stop for a drink and a chat." She held up a bottle. "I brought our favorite: French aristocrat 1792."

And then Vlad knew his father would cave. For all of his blustering and fury and hidden ache that his partner's rejection had caused him, the Count still had a weakness when it came to their mother.

"There is a spare coffin in the upper basement. But if I catch hide of hair of that werewolf you are straight out the door."

The Countess only had a pleased smile upon her lips (oh, she knew that she could still twist the Count around her finger) as she strode from the room, their father close behind with Renfield trailing with the bags.

Vlad barely waited for them to leave before he turned upon his sister and spat, "I hope this isn't your idea of a sick joke because you know they are not going to ever be together again."

And Ingrid did seem rather put out, as if she had been slapped by reality. But she persisted, "Why not? There should be a change around here."

Vlad struggled not to lunge at his sister and only gathered his books before rushing up to his room.

He wasn't surprised when Robin followed him. There was little his friend could do otherwise for even he was smarter than to remain alone with any of the other Draculas. Vlad felt Robin's gaze upon him as he shoved his schoolwork on to the worktable, too upset now to do much of anything other than fume to himself.

"Your mother…"

"Was terrible and don't you say otherwise," Vlad snapped.

"…I was going to say sufficiently vampire-like." And the young vampire was about to go on an angry torrent for in Robin's books being defined vampire-like was as good as any compliment. But the other boy continued, "And this time I don't mean it in a good way."

That silenced anything Vlad was about to say and he only looked at Robin as if he had grown a second head.

"I might be a lousy friend," the human boy grinned weakly. "I might not exactly understand why you hate being different when it's clearly better than being as painfully boring as the rest of us are. But I have to say that maybe having a vampire mom isn't exactly cool."

Coming from Robin that meant a lot and Vlad was admittedly touched by it. "Thank you. I just…didn't really take her leaving us very well. She is always doing this, showing up and then leaving. I can't go through with it again."

"I'm sorry."

They fell into a contemplative but comfortable silence for a little while before Robin spoke again.

"But she mentioned wizards…?"

And that was something Vlad wasn't quite ready to share yet. Because sharing that meant sharing magic and Voldemort and a whole list of other things he himself was still trying to fully understand. The Statute of Secrecy demanded it remain secret anyway and for now, that was sufficient enough to justify what Vlad did again for the second time that summer.

"What wizards?" he said, catching Robin's eyes and locking him there as gold bled into the vampire's irises. "You've never heard of wizards being mentioned. They haven't even crossed your mind."

"I…"

"Right, Robin?"

"Yeah, you're right. That's silly of me. Of course. What would wizards have anything to do with vampires?"

Vlad wanted to be sick. Here he was violating his friend's mind and memories just after he had tried to help in his own way. Vlad wanted to let Robin know but something held him back. He gently picked up the book bag Robin had dropped when he entered the room and placed it in his friend's hands. "Why don't you go back home. My Mum is dangerous enough to keep you away for the next week and I won't be attending school because of it."

"I'll see you in a week then, Vlad," Robin smiled a little absently.

"Yeah," the young vampire breathed out shakily. "I'll see you."

~0~

"Chased away your little Breather?" Ingrid smirked as she set the dinner table. "I saw him walk off…a little dazed I might add."

"You know this isn't a good idea," Vlad warned, not in the mood to discuss his sudden spree with his hypnotism. "Dad will just get hurt again."

"Dad? The cold hearted prince of darkness?"

"This has happened so many times before. I don't know why you're pursuing it again."

"I don't want to always be belittled because I'm a  _girl_. With Mum here things will change."

Vlad looked at his sister and raised his eyebrows. "Really. With me being wizard trained and all? You don't think Mum won't favor me too now?"

A flicker of doubt crossed Ingrid's face; it was obvious she had been thinking about it. But she set her lips and shook her head. "It will be better than it was before."

And as their father came walking in dressed in ridiculous clothes they knew he had not worn in years with their mother following only a few minutes later before Renfield began presenting the meal, Vlad knew that it was now his mission to prove his sister wrong. Things would only be worse with their mother back around.

"Don't worry about it, Renfield," Vlad spoke before the servant could begin serving the plates. "I'll take care of it."

The Count shook his head in disapproval. "Oh, Vladdy, that's unnecessary."

The younger vampire's only response was to snap his fingers and summon the plates to their respective places. He had become rather adept at such a simple spell, but he rarely utilized it when uncalled, especially since serving was Renfield's duty. But tonight was a special occasion and for once Vlad was not going to hesitate in displaying what he had learned during his first year at Hogwarts.

Already, he could see his mother's eyes gleaming as she took in her son's new abilities. In her eyes, she was seeing a boy that would someday grow to rather strong influence just by his magic alone. Of course, she did not know that Vlad was going to find a way out of it before that could ever happen but the less she knew the better. One less person to stand in Vlad's way on his mission to a normal life.

"Oh, thank you, Vladdy," the Countess smiled. "Using magic so young. That's quite brilliant. Tell, me what have the wizards been teaching you?"

The rest of the meal carried in such a manner. Whenever somebody requested something to be passed or Renfield inevitably broke a plate or two, Vlad made sure to levitate or repair everything with only a snap of his fingers. He had even cast a  _Locomotor Mortis_  on the human servant to amuse his parents. Predictably, Vlad's actions pleased the two elder vampires and he received quite a few compliments and proud exclamations. Most were from his father for the man never hesitated to praise everything his heir did. But the Countess put in her fair share and Ingrid passed more or less ignored throughout the meal.

It was Vlad's declaration of war to his sister: keep their mother here and this was how things were going to be.

He didn't have it in him to feel much regret. Ingrid's face was inscrutable throughout the meal, but he knew she was most likely furious – and hurt. How did it decline so quickly, Vlad wondered, that she had been so willing to accept an insincere woman back into their lives. But he knew it would not end well for any of them should their mother remain to manipulate their lives.

The Count found wolf hair in her coffin the next evening and Magda Westernra was thrown out before the sun could begin to rise over the horizon.

Vlad was pleased, of course, that the Countess was gone but a part of him ached a little as it always did and there was little comfort when he ran into his sister following their mother's eviction.

"I hope you are happy," Ingrid had said, neither angrily nor sadly.

And for the briefest of moments, Vlad wondered if it would have been better to have let their mother stay.

~0~

Vlad finally got a chance to open his letter when his family had calmed down. It had been an elegant, but simple request to have him over to the Malfoy mansion for a period of two weeks. He had his father's approval within seconds of mentioning it – for the Count did not forget the wealthy and influential friend that Vlad had made – and soon, whatever disturbance Vlad's mother had caused him settled to the back of his mind as he was given something to look forward to.

* * *

**Vlad is technically powerful enough to hypnotize the Van Hellsings into forgetting vampires completely. But he doesn't know that. He has no idea he's the Chosen One at this point and as far as he is concerned, he was just lucky (or unlucky) enough to have been chanced with an early study of magic. He has no reason to not believe what the book told him concerning hypnotism so he allowed Mr. Van Hellsing to recall that he is a Slayer.**

**I really think having a mother leave them early in their childhood affected the way Vlad and Ingrid grew up. So Magda is an important character so expect her to show up again. Or at least expect to see the influence of her absence if you aren't already seeing it. Ingrid's obvious low status in the Count's eyes and opinion is already an example. I would imagine that if Magda had stayed, there would be less daughter/father tension.**

**Yes, Draco's house is next ;) And we're going to get back to Hogwarts soon. I was planning on keeping Vlad's first summer rather mellow (or as mellow as mellow can be for him) and it doesn't seem to have much to add to the plot yet. But trust me when I say that I will begin to integrate the two worlds. For now, they're rather separate except for the one link being Vlad. It's only his First Year so far. We have six more to go!**

**Till next time.**


	24. When Trouble Finds You

**Chapter 24: When Trouble Finds You**

"You made it!"

Vlad grinned as he saw Draco approaching him. "Well, I did write back. You knew I was coming."

The blonde boy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in a huff. "You know what I meant."

"Now, now," reprimanded the soft voice of Narcissa Malfoy as she delicately stepped forward to greet her guest. "No need to be so harsh, Draco."

It was a relief to be somewhere outside of his family's home. The lingering effects of Vlad's mother still remained and he had slowly been going crazy from the constant reading and studying he preferred to do with nothing left to occupy him. After packing his belongings and grasping his cufflink Portkeys, Vlad had appeared in a whirl of magic within the Malfoy family's foyer. It was beautiful, as expected, and slightly intimidating without the winter holiday decorations he had seen during his last visit. The predominant color scheme incorporated silver and emerald with a slight emphasis on the elegant black. And although it reminded Vlad of the Slytherin Common Room, he felt slightly disoriented; it was like a clean version of his home back in Romania with a touch more green.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay over for a few weeks, Mrs. Malfoy," Vlad said politely, bowing slightly at the waist.

"It is no trouble. Your presence is actually quite a relief; Draco wouldn't stop bothering us about it."

"Mother!"

Vlad smiled a little sadly at Draco's easy interaction with his mother. It had been a while since the young vampire had ever had a decent conversation with his own.

"Come on," the Malfoy heir waved after finishing his quick pout with his mother. "I'll show you around."

Vlad smiled and decided that there was no point in worrying over things now. He was here to relax with his friend and that was exactly what he was going to do. With a nod, the young vampire followed the blonde up the flight of stairs.

The tour of the entire household took the remainder of the day; so large was the Malfoy estate. It was more of a scavenger hunt of sorts, with Draco leading Vlad through the more obscure nook and crannies of the home. Even with all of the little secrets that the blonde shared, the young vampire doubted that he was shown the more important passageways – the ones that held darker mysteries and other means of travel.

Still, Vlad had to admit that it was entertaining and he particularly enjoyed the gardens and magical creatures that the Malfoys kept. He had absolutely loved the Aethons, flying horses he otherwise would have thought were Pegasi, and had broken into fits of laughter at the white peacocks strutting about the large spans of grass within the gardens. He had adored the Hippocampus and had taken interest in watching the Ashwinders basking in the sunnier patches. The house itself was a work of art that Vlad enjoyed observing and the only thing he really had to complain about was the fact that the storage for the Quidditch equipment was unnecessarily large. He had made sure to tell Draco so and the blonde had only dismissed it with a "you're just saying that because you're no good at it."

The rest of the week and the next passed similarly. Draco took particular pleasure in showing Vlad around in more detail, allowing the young vampire to test every little thing to keep them both occupied. Vlad had no complaint; the entire estate had more than enough to discover without the outside trips they also took. At least twice Mrs. Malfoy had decided to take the two boys to Diagon Alley to get an early start on their school shopping and to investigate the myriad of shops they otherwise would not have found time to explore later on. Vlad found that he liked the brick flavor at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor – much to Draco's disgust – and they both stumbled on the strangest of objects in the Junk Shop.

Vlad was pleasantly surprised to find that spending time with Draco wasn't quite as awkward as he thought it would be. It was true that towards the end of their First Year they had gotten along better, if a little stiffly. But now conversation came rather easily for them both and Vlad wondered if this was what most normal people experienced when they had a friend.

Of course, there was still the fact that Draco did not know that Vlad's family consisted of vampires and that the young vampire kept not only Harry Potter's prized Invisibility Cloak, but also the single stone in the entire world that could grant immortality in a secret compartment at the bottom of his trunk. Those facts never left Vlad's mind and he always felt the weight of such secrets upon his shoulders. But when they were laughing over a pair of fireworks that had accidentally gone off at Gambol and Japes, it was a lot easier for him to carry the secrets hidden in the back of his mind.

Vlad was pointedly relieved when Mr. Malfoy only appeared during dinner following his busy schedule at the Ministry; the man still managed to unsettle the young vampire even if they hardly exchanged words outside of their formal greetings. And Vlad was even more relieved when he realized that Draco never mentioned the mirror. It seemed to be a topic both of them did not wish to relive.

Life was pleasant for once in Vlad's life and he should have known that it could only last so long.

During the end of the second week of his stay at the Malfoys, only a day before he was supposed to return home for the small remainder of the summer, Vlad had the unfortunate luck of stumbling upon the house elf Dobby.

It would not have mattered, really, if he had not decided to greet the elf and grasp the thing's little shoulder to catch its attention at the exact moment he did. He had wanted to at least say hello to the creature that had helped him leave the Malfoy household without being caught with the mirror. If he had just moved a second later or even seen the elf a moment earlier, things would have been different. But fate had a funny way of playing with Vlad's life and it just so happened that Dobby chose to Apparate the instant the young vampire touched its arm.

~0~

Harry had just finished preparing the dinner for the important guests that his aunt and uncle were having over for the night. He had completed it in a hurry, in no mood to linger with his high-strung relatives finding fault in every step he took. The moment he finished, his Aunt Petunia had hastily shoved a small plate of meager food into his hands to quickly swallow before pushing him up the stairs with a hissed, "Upstairs! Now!"

As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Remember, boy - one sound -" Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed.

Except there was already something – somebody – occupying it.

Harry froze, unsure what exactly was on his bed for a moment. It was such a tangle of limbs and groans and confused sounds that it took Harry a few seconds to comprehend that it was a boy and a strange creature lying there as if they had fallen.

Harry managed not to cry out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.

The other figure, a boy about his age, was less startling to comprehend but actually the larger surprise. The moment the other boy straightened up, looking around in confusion before locking eyes with Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived realized that he was in for a strange night.

"Vlad?" Harry gaped incredulously.

The other boy seemed to not believe what he was looking at. He blinked several times before blankly replying, "Harry?"

The creature, on the other hand, slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg-holes.

"Er – hello," said Harry nervously. It was a little too much to deal with Vlad right now (what on earth was he doing here?) so he decided that it was best to face the creature first.

"Harry Potter!" said the creature in a high-pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir...such an honor it is!"

"Th-thank you," said Harry, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. He wanted to ask, "What are you?" but thought it would sound too rude, so instead he said, "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house elf," said the creature.

"Oh - really?" said Harry. "Er - I don't want to be rude or anything, but - this isn't a great time for me to have a house elf in my bedroom."

Aunt Petunias high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head.

"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," said Harry quickly, "but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh, yes, sir," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir...it is difficult, sir... Dobby wonders where to begin…"

"Sit down," said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.

To his horror, the elf burst into tears - very noisy tears. He was about to panic, about to ask what he had done wrong because he couldn't afford to attract attention with his relatives' guests over. But Vlad beat him to it and the other boy quickly knelt down and grasped the house elf's wrists. "Dobby, Dobby!"

The little creature sniffed loudly and sobbed, "Y-yes Master Vlad? Dobby didn't mean to – to bring you too, sir. But I w-was hopings you would help keep this a secret too? This is very important…"

A flicker of worry and bewilderment crossed Vlad's face but he hastily replied, "Okay, okay. Dobby – Dobby are you listening to me? – I will keep this a secret, okay? I will. Just…Shh. See, Harry doesn't want you to be noisy and he doesn't want you to cry."

Harry thought he heard the voices downstairs falter. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything -"

"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard - like an equal-"

"Dobby!" Vlad hissed in a low voice, clearly seeing Harry's growing distress. "Dobby, you need to be quiet. Dobby!"

At the other boy's insistence, the house elf faltered into more quiet sobs, muffled by Vlad's sleeve. Harry was monumentally perplexed by the entire situation and while Dobby cried, he looked at Vlad in hopes of some explanation.

The Slytherin boy only gave him a helpless look and a shrug. "I have no idea," Vlad whispered over Dobby's sobs. "I...I didn't mean to come here and disrupt you like this. I was just greeting Dobby and before I knew it here I was. He was planning to visit you, I guess."

Which raised the question why the elf wanted to visit in the first place and both boys turned to look at the elf for some sort of clarification. When the elf wouldn't calm down, Harry said, "You can't have met many decent wizards."

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Don't - what are you doing?" Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed - Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage. Vlad helped him restrain the house elf and it was a long while before they had the creature completely still between them.

"Do you know what a house elf is?" Vlad asked quietly. "You do know that they're bound to the family they are serving and obligated to punish themselves should they ever go against an order or speak ill of their masters, don't you?"

Harry was lost for words. "What – that horrible! Why don't they leave? Escape?"

"They can't. They have to be set free – with what I'm not quite sure."

"It's still awful. This is like a slave or a –"

"Not really," Vlad interrupted, looking carefully down at the elf between them. Dobby was quiet now, his mouth clamped shut under the Slytherin's sleeve. "Most of them like what they do. It is their magical purpose to serve, as awful as that does sound. But Dobby is…different I suppose."

At this, the house elf managed to spring up and out of their grip to insist, "Dobby is different! Dobby heard tell that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago...that Harry Potter escaped yet again."

"I suppose, but it wasn't really me," Harry said, flushing a little.

"Ah, sir," the creature gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"W-what?" Harry stammered. "But I've got to go back - term starts on September first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here. I belong in your world - at Hogwarts."

At that, Vlad gave him a sharp look of concern and it struck Harry that this was a horrible way for the other boy to find out that the Boy-Who-Lived didn't exactly live a pleasant life outside of Hogwarts. It made Harry feel embarrassed that he was being seen like this, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter now.

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" asked Vlad in surprise.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.

"All right!" cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on - this hasn't got anything to do with Vol- - sorry - with You-Know-Who, has it?"

Dobby could only stare in misery.

Then an idea struck Harry. He turned to look at Vlad and said, "But you can tell me, can't you?" His stomach sank. "Is…is Dobby your family's house elf?"

"No! No," Vlad shook his head immediately. "He's not. He's just a friend's house elf."

"You know who he serves then. Who is it?"

Vlad seemed lost then. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he finally replied, "I can't tell you."

"Why not? Dobby, I understand, but why can't you tell me?" Harry leaned forward. "I'm being told that something terrible is going to happen to me and that I can't go back to Hogwarts and you can't tell me?"

"I can't," Vlad whispered. And it was so quiet, so desperate a whisper that it made Harry stop and blink in slight guilt.

"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," said Harry instead, thinking to himself before turning to Dobby. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing - you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir" - Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper - "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't...powers no decent wizard…"

And before either Vlad or Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.

A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Harry, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, "Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"

"Quick! In the closet!" hissed Harry, stuffing Dobby and Vlad in, shutting the door, and flinging himself onto the bed just as the door handle turned.

"What - the - devil - are - you - doing?" said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Harry's. "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke...One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!" He stomped, flat-footed from the room.

Shaking, Harry let Dobby and Vlad out of the closet. "See what it's like here?" he said. "See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got -well, I think I've got friends."

Vlad was quiet and more than a little pale all of a sudden. But Dobby looked up and said slyly, "Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?"

"I expect they've just been - wait a minute," said Harry, frowning. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

Dobby shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best - "

"Dobby." It was the coldest Harry had ever heard Vlad's normally warm and cheerful voice. "Give Harry back his letters."

"Master Vlad mustn't be angry...Dobby hoped...if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him...Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir. Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!"

"No," said Harry angrily just as Vlad hissed, "Dobby!"

"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice," said the elf sadly.

It seemed that Vlad understood what the elf was going to do as his eyes widened and he lunged forward. And a split second later, Harry realized it too. Before Harry could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and sprinted down the stairs. Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Harry sprang after him, trying not to make a sound with Vlad close behind him. He jumped the last six steps, landing catlike on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the dining room he heard Uncle Vernon saying, "…tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear…"

Harry ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach disappear.

Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.

"No," croaked Harry. "Please…they'll kill me…"

"Dobby," Vlad insisted. "Don't do this. This isn't going to help."

At that, the elf hesitated and his ears drooped a little. But then his posture straightened and he declared, "Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good."

The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered.

And then with a crack like a whip, Dobby grasped Vlad's hand and vanished.

~0~

The moment they appeared back at Malfoy Manor, Vlad whirled upon the house elf in fury and shouted, "Why did you do that!"

Dobby must have anticipated such a reaction for he had Apparated them into the kitchens where the Malfoys rarely visited. "Dobby had to, sir. I'm deeply sorry, sir. It was for Harry Potter's safety –"

"Safety? Safety! Did you not hear that crazy uncle of his? Didn't you get it? What you did was do anything but make him safe!"

"It was better that Harry Potter's nasty relatives keep him than going to Hogwarts, sir."

"How?" Vlad demanded, still in shock at what had just happened. "How on earth is making his – probably abusive – uncle angry at him going to help anything? How is that any better?" The vampire's mind was whirling at what he had seen, at what he had just learned. He had no idea that Harry was being treated like this. He had no idea that the savior of the wizarding world was being treated so unfairly and he wondered how on earth it could still be allowed to continue.

"I can't say –"

"Don't give me that! You tell me now what is going on, Dobby, or I  _will_  walk up to Mr. Malfoy and tell him everything."

"If Master Vlad does that, sir, then Dobby must tell Mr. Malfoy about the mirror too, sir."

Vlad froze in horror at that, his heart hammering in his chest. What would a Dark wizard do if he learned that a guest had found something so valuable and dangerous? But the young vampire was determined to take the gamble, to bet that Dobby's concern over Harry was too large. "It doesn't matter. I will still tell."

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Then Dobby seemingly wilted upon himself and he murmured, "Dobby heard Master speaking about reviving the Chamber of Secrets. About giving the diary to bring back the Heir of Slytherin."

It wasn't bad enough that Vlad had gotten himself tangled up with the Philosopher's Stone. It wasn't bad enough that he was harboring the secret that he had seen Voldemort back and alive. Now he was part of another secret, another mystery before the school year had even started.

The young vampire sighed tiredly, suddenly heavy with the revelation he had just been handed – from a house elf no less.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Dobby. I just…you can't go around doing things like this. It won't help to keep Harry bottled up in his house like that and you can't protect him from everything alone."

Understanding entered the elf's eyes and there was a sort of forgiveness between them both before Dobby spoke again. "I'm sorry too, Master Vlad. But I can't stop and I will protect Harry Potter."

And this time, the elf made sure to not be touching the young vampire as he Apparated away.

~0~

Vlad stood at the foyer of the Malfoy household again, holding his things as he had two weeks ago when he had first arrived. He smiled at Mrs. Malfoy and said, "Thank you so much for taking care of me these past few weeks. I really enjoyed it."

"I'm glad you did," the woman smiled back. "I hope you will visit again."

"I'll see you at the station, Vlad," Draco waved, smirking a little. "Try not to get into any trouble until then."

And wasn't that ironic.

"Of course," Vlad grinned, feeling as if something was dying slowly inside of him. "What makes you think I'll go looking for trouble before the school year even starts?"

* * *

**Hogwarts is back next chapter (or at least the Hogwarts Express) :)**

**Till next time!**


	25. Welcome Back!

**Chapter 25: Welcome Back!**

September first saw Vlad appearing in the middle of Platform 9¾ clutching on to his father's arm with trunk in tow. He's said his goodbyes before going, spending a day with Robin and even managing to say a passing word to Ingrid before she had snapped for him to go away. The school had been alerted that Vlad would not be attending until the next summer and Nox had gone ahead, traveling the shadows as he saw fit to make his own way to Hogwarts. The only farewell he had yet to do was with his father and it had become something of an expectation for such a thing to happen on the platform.

"New year, Vladdy," the Count smiled as he gripped the back of his son's neck. "Do me proud and cause some trouble, won't you?"

The remainder of Vlad's summer had not been relaxing to say the least with Harry's condition and the awful information he had learned on his mind. The young vampire looked tired and a little worn compared to his excited and hopeful approach last year. He could only manage a weak grin and a nod before his father allowed him to go.

A sudden clamor of noise caused him to look back towards the platform's entrance. Vlad immediately recognized the burst of flaming hair crowning the multiple heads entering and a part of him looked for the telltale figure of the second youngest Weasley to follow. His brow furrowed in slight confusion when it did not appear, but he had only a brief second to register such information before the shriek of the train's whistle jerked his attention back into focus.

He was more than a little shocked to see the wheels of the vehicle beginning to move.

In the back of his mind, Vlad registered that the Weasleys were all scrambling onto the train as quickly as they could with their luggage. The tiny portion of his brain that was working told him that he should probably be doing the same. Moving quickly, he heaved his magically lightened trunk on to one of the open steps of the train and grasped the sides to lift himself up as well. Just as he was pulling his weight forwards, a pale hand grasped his shoulder and dragged him the rest of the way in.

"You really must work on your timing," said Draco as he straightened his robes. "Wouldn't want to be missing your Second Year now would you?"

"You're such a git," Vlad grinned and he grasped the handle of his trunk as he followed the other Slytherin past the compartments. "You were watching me the entire time weren't you?"

"Watching you stare at the Weasleys of all people when you could have been getting on the express," the blond replied, eyeing Vlad. "What was that about anyway?"

The reminder sobered the young vampire up quickly. "It was nothing." He couldn't exactly tell Draco that he had actually been searching for Harry amongst the redheads. It was something he had expected, to see the wizarding world's savior with his friend, but he hadn't seen Ron at all. Ron's lack of appearance did not make Vlad nervous – there were a variety of explanations for that – but he was tempted to give an excuse to scan the rest of the train for some sign of Harry. He just wanted a glance, to know that the other boy was alright after what had happened the night Dobby had revealed itself.

But the entire reason the house-elf had even appeared in the first place had been because of its Master, the Master Dobby had effectively implied was a part of the chaos that would occur this year. The creature had never said it outright (it wasn't allowed to) but the only way Dobby could have ever come across such information would have been if Mr. Malfoy had somehow implicated himself in or even instigated these chain of events.

And for all of Vlad's near-feverish research following the elf's reveal, he had only managed to catch a few paragraphs regarding the Chamber of Secrets in  _Hogwarts a History_. The explanation had been simple and lacking in any detail whatsoever; the only things the young vampire had learned was that Salazar Slytherin had built it and it housed a so-called "danger to all filthy blood traitors and Mudbloods." Vlad personally thought it was all rather dramatized, but he had since become used to the common prejudice against the Slytherin reputation.

"Vlad are you okay?"

The young vampire shook his head and looked up to see that they had arrived at the compartment Draco had reserved. He was a little disheartened to see Blaise and Theo already inside; he had been hoping to prod Draco gently about his family's "plans" for the school year. But he had little choice. Instead of dwelling upon it, Vlad stepped inside and placed his trunk out of the way.

"Good summer?" asked Blaise, much to Vlad's surprise. It had been a rare thing for the other Slytherins to engage him in idle chatter even towards the end of the last year. Perhaps Draco had changed their mind or they had seen interaction would be inevitable.

"It was fine, I suppose."

"The real question is," Theo corrected with a touch of a smirk on his lips, "did you finish your assignments?"

"A month ago."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

Vlad raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't?"

"I did, but my tutors insisted that I do so. I'm fairly sure you did it for the fun of it."

At Vlad's flush, Theo laughed aloud. "I think you would have done just fine in Ravenclaw."

That probably would have been true if Vlad didn't have the secrets that he had. The young vampire could only smile uneasily and settle down for a few hours with his company. Blaise and Theo were good conversationalists when they wished to be and the majority of the ride went without much fault.

It was when Hermione abruptly opened the door to their compartment, giving Vlad a flash of déjà vu, that things took a turn.

"Oh, it's you," the Gryffindor hastily said, but Theo decided that didn't make up for the story he had been interrupted for.

"Little lost, aren't you?"

Hermione tensed at the jab and she held her chin high. "I was just looking for my friends."

"You have friends?"

"It hardly matters to you anyway," the girl replied with her cheeks stained an angry red. "You would hardly care."

She slammed the door on her way out and Theo cursed under his breath when it shut upon his fingers. "Filthy Mudblood."

Draco had a prominent frown upon his face and Blaise had his mouth thinned to a line. But Vlad could only sit and think that perhaps Theo had deserved what he had been handed. Then, the information that Hermione had revealed made his chest stutter because it meant two things: Ron had indeed not arrived on the platform and neither had Harry.

News spread fast and by the time the express had come to a stop at Hogsmeade and all of the students had settled themselves for the feast, whispers were rampant about the missing Boy-Who-Lived. Vlad caught a few of them detailing how Harry had probably gotten into a fight with a troll again or he had been expelled for deciding to marry ten witches at the same time or he had chosen to become a hermit to live with hippogriffs for the rest of his life. But none of them seemed plausible and Vlad could hardly sit comfortably through the meal without remembering how terrible Harry's uncle had seemed.

Draco sensed Vlad's unease and, to the blond's credit, he tried to engage the young vampire in conversation. Vlad complied eventually, if to try to take his mind off his thoughts, but an unsettling feeling remained with him.

It was to his great relief and almost-satisfied amusement that a Howler arrived the next morning, declaring to the whole world that Harry and Ron and had indeed arrived – and in a flying car no less.

"Filthy blood traitor and Saint Potter are just out for attention again," Draco had sulked irritably over his breakfast. "They just can't get on the train like everybody else."

Vlad had decided to let the blond wallow; he had been far too pleased to see that nothing horrible had happened to Harry after Dobby's presence that night.

His mood was quickly crushed, though, when he found out that the famed wizard Gilderoy Lockhart would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco had scathingly wondered how on earth Vlad could be so late on the uptake; apparently everybody had known, especially after the man had made a scene about giving away his entire collection to Harry one day at Diagon. Draco informed Vlad about how he had been present that day and he could hardly believe how "completely full of it" Harry had apparently been.

Regardless of his growing frustration with Harry's constant attention-grabbing tendencies, Draco confessed that almost all of the Slytherins knew that Lockhart was a complete fraud. Even without his input, Vlad probably could have been able to tell. From the way the man busied himself so much with his image, it was difficult to imagine Lockhart dedicated much time to the study of magic at all.

It was just before Defense, in fact, that Draco decided it would be a good time for confrontation.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

"Draco," Vlad frowned warningly. But the blond ignored the young vampire.

Loud and scathing, Draco's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, the First Year boy who had been avidly begging for a photograph of Harry, with Vlad just beside him. The blond was not taking all of the attention directed towards Harry very well and a large part of Vlad was annoyed by Draco's inability to move beyond his jealousy. It seemed Draco was making an effort this year not to, but things could only improve so much so soon.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

And Vlad was slightly surprised and happy to hear the defiance in Harry's tone. It meant that Harry was growing beyond this or at least standing up for himself. He had seemed so afraid back in his relatives' home that Vlad had almost forgotten the fierce independence Harry undertook once he was at Hogwarts. The young vampire was torn, of course, between his empathy towards Harry and his friendship with Draco. But at the moment, the best he could do was mediate.

"Draco, let's go. We're going to be late to Defense," Vlad urged, grasping the blond's arm.

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

Vlad wanted to strangle the First Year because he had actually seen the acceptance in Draco's eyes for a brief moment. But then the boy spoke up and Draco snarled, "Jealous?" Half the courtyard was listening in at this point. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Draco. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "If you put another toe out of line' - "

"That's enough!" Vlad interrupted furiously.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Draco, ignoring Vlad. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house -"

But then Lockhart swept in a flurry of flashing teeth and self-absorption, grasping Harry's shoulders in an effort to appear companionable with the famous Second Year. Vlad didn't waste the opportunity; he immediately grabbed Draco's sleeve and dragged him away from the courtyard.

"You should know better than to start something like that."

"What, are you on Potter's side?" Draco bit out. "Can't you see what an attention seeker he is?"

"Can't you see that he isn't?" Vlad snapped back in exasperation. "I'm not on his 'side', Draco. I'm just trying to help you so that you're not always frustrated about this anymore. It doesn't help anything and it just turns the school against us even more."

The Malfoy heir seemed prepared to erupt in self-indignation, but then he took a deep breath and tugged his lips into a pout. "We're going to be late for Defense."

They didn't touch the topic again for the rest of the way to the classroom and Vlad was visibly relieved when he saw Draco's face remain carefully blank even when the entire class saw Professor Lockhart haul Harry in like a trophy.

After strolling up to the front of the room, the man gave the class a cursory glance before settling upon Vlad in slight confusion. At first, the young vampire didn't understand why the professor was staring at him specifically. But then he realized, with a jolt, that it must be queer to see him sitting alone in the center of the classroom while the rest of the students sat on either side. The rest of the teachers had grown used to it and even the students had ceased to see it as an anomaly. It seemed to make sense after a while, especially when Vlad was already odd with his wandless abilities.

Lockhart did not dwell on it long, however. Instead, he flicked his wand at the board and elegantly sent pieces of chalk to spell his name in elegant cursive. "Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"

Vlad had, unfortunately, read all of the books even though he had known they were all complete bullocks. They had been entertaining in their own ridiculous way and he was slightly embarrassed when he realized he actually knew all of the answers to the three-page long quiz entirely centered on the professor. It was even more embarrassing when he finished before the entire class and near humiliating when Lockhart declared him the only one who had "paid attention to all the detail."

Much to Vlad's horror, it seemed the man had decided to take a liking to him after his clear success on the exam and he was subjugated to the man's attention for the remainder of the lesson. Even as the pixies went out of hand and both he and Hermione fixed the situation, the professor declared Vlad a "one-of-a-kind" student and gave Slytherin a full thirty points for it.

It was a little unnerving to feel Hermione's full glare after the man neglected to mention her part in clearing up the mess; Vlad had heard she was one of Lockhart's fans.

The entire fiasco had pulled Draco out of his brooding mood and the blond spent the remainder of the day uproariously informing everybody who would listen about Vlad's new position as "teacher's pet."

~0~

It was about a week later when Draco spontaneously decided to announce during breakfast that he would be trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team that year.

The others sitting around him looked up from their plates to look a little incredulously at the blond. The proclamation itself wasn't new; Draco had been saying such a thing ever since Harry had made Seeker his first year. But this time, there was a conviction in Draco's voice and the fact that it just so happened to be the day of the actual tryouts that had people believing him.

Vlad, on the other hand, was not surprised. From the time he had spent at the Malfoy manor over the summer, he had seen Draco's intent to be genuine. There were moments when the two took breaks from their respective activities and it was during those times that the blond would take up a broom and conduct some drills of his own. Rather than bothering to waste energy staring at Draco like the others, Vlad decided that it would be far more productive to continue reading the current passage he was reading regarding the effects of an invisibility charm on particular magical creatures.

"Really?" Daphne asked. "That's wonderful, Draco. What position?"

"Seeker," the blond replied decisively. "The spot is open this year."

"Seeker? Like Harry Potter?" Vlad had to struggle not to roll his eyes. Sometimes he wondered how on earth somebody like Goyle managed to make it beyond his first year.

Draco's voice was slightly tense. "Yes. Like Potter."

"I heard Vance was trying out too," Blaise said from the side, his tone carefully delicate. "He's fairly good."

This time, a smirk made its way on to Draco's face. "Let's just say I have an advantage."

And Vlad should have known that "advantage" was a set of new Nimbus Two Thousand and One brooms. How in bats name the Malfoy family had managed to get their hands on a model that wasn't even officially released to the public yet was slightly baffling and the fact that they were so willing to spend an exorbitant amount of money on something as frivolous as this made Vlad think the Malfoys were actually closer to the Dracula-spectrum of wealthy after all.

"Why don't you come watch the first practice; everybody else is," Draco suggested a few days later, dressed fully in his Quidditch uniform. "There's even a bonus: Flint managed to book the field during the Gryffindor team's time."

Vlad hardly thought that was a "bonus." But he realized that if he didn't go, there would most likely be more than a few unfriendly spells exchanged. "Let me get my bag first."

The young vampire had to struggle not to detach himself from the Slytherins when he saw Oliver Wood's face of shock and anger when they approached the field. He would stand by Draco – if to keep him out of trouble more than anything – but that didn't mean he liked it when he was being automatically classified as "one of  _them_." Sometimes he believed that Slytherins encouraged the bad reputation they harbored.

Wood shot toward the ground in the middle of a drill, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed. When Harry landed, he had a significant frown on his lips and his eyes widened a little when he spotted Vlad standing in normal school uniform amongst the other Slytherin players.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. `I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker."'

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

Vlad could almost taste the smug pride Draco oozed when he stepped forward. He swept forward, his broom held fiercely in his hand and his eyes unwavering. It was, perhaps, one of the few moments Draco actually received the attention he had been looking for so long.

The young vampire wanted to slap a hand to his face in exasperation and wondered how he had managed to make a pompous idiot his very first friend.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" - he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives - "sweeps the board with them."

Vlad's eyes flicked over to two figures making their way over across the field. He hadn't noticed them before, but it seemed Ron and Hermione had decided to watch Harry practice today. As they neared, he heard Ron question, "What's happening? Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" He was staring at Draco in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. His eyes didn't miss Ron's sudden gaping mouth upon seeing the new brooms. "Do you like the new brooms?"

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

Vlad pursed his lips before snapping, "Hey, you don't know that."

Hermione looked at him, startled, as if she hadn't noticed him or expected the normally reticent Slytherin to speak up. Ron, on the other hand, was a little better acquainted with Vlad's ability to speak.

"So you really are siding with them? I thought you were a little different. You weren't so bad First Year."

"I was just going to watch practice," Vlad replied stiffly. "And I was just speaking the truth. They –" he pointed to the Slytherin team, " – try harder than you give them credit for."

Hermione seemed genuinely remorseful and Harry a little taken aback. But Draco spoke suddenly, sneering, "It wasn't as if anybody was asking for your opinion anyway, Mudblood."

There was an immediate uproar. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, one of the Gryffindor girls shrieked, "How dare you!"; and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoys face.

Vlad shouted, "Wait, don't!" He had seen Ron's wand several times during classes and the poor thing was, quite frankly, a useless wreck at this point. No wizard should carry around a wand that had already been snapped in two. But He hadn't spoken quickly enough and a sickly blue spell shot backwards, sending Ron sprawling into the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.

Vlad had just about had enough. Why anybody would kick this much fuss over Quidditch in the first place was beyond him and he wanted to punch the living sunlight out of Draco because this could have been avoided had he not insulted Hermione. He was used to the blond slurring muggleborns as Mudbloods and he saw it very much akin to the way his family normally dubbed humans Breathers. Before today, he had never actually seen the word directed at a muggleborn and had no idea that it was such an affront.

While everybody was either paralyzed in laughter or disgust, Vlad moved and crouched next to Ron. Harry moved with surprising synchronicity and they both found themselves kneeling beside the slug-coated redhead.

"We should take him to Hagrid's," Harry said. "It's closest and maybe we can stop the slugs there."

"Let me try something first," Vlad insisted. "I might know a way to reverse this." He watched Harry, waiting for permission first because he had not forgotten that as odd and sparse as their interactions had been so far, they were still from two very different crowds.

Harry didn't even hesitate before nodding his head. "Go ahead."

Vlad couldn't help but smile a little at that. Harry was simple: either he trusted you or he didn't and it warmed the young vampire to think that he was one of the trusted even after he had tumbled into the other boy's room one spontaneous summer night. He gave a nod back in confirmation and turned to Ron.

"Hey, you aren't actually going to help the idiot, are you?" Flint asked, still chortling behind his glove. "The sod did this to himself. Leave him be."

"What I do or don't do is my business," Vlad snapped. "So either you leave me alone or help me fix this."

The Slytherins quieted a little after that. It seemed that they had not expected such a reply. Instead, the captain signaled for them to keep moving and they shot into the air to practice. Draco lingered a little, almost hesitating. But then he looked away and followed the rest of the Slytherins.

Vlad didn't dwell on it too much. He shouldn't have expected Draco to stay. He actually liked the crowd he was in; his family had made it so. The young vampire knew he was still had a ways to go in terms of helping the blond see reason, but a small part of him was disappointed.

Instead of brooding, he focused on his current patient. "Hey, Ron, look at me." The redhead managed to glance up once before he was curled over and spitting out slugs again. Vlad sighed, waving Harry and Hermione closer, only vaguely aware of the rest of the Gryffindor team watching them. "I need you guys to hold his head up properly and looking at me. Good. Just hold him there."

Vlad had half a mind to hypnotize Ron to stop barfing up slugs, but that would be an unstable fix. What would happen if the hypnotism someday wore off? He couldn't afford that, so he tried to recall exactly what he had read regarding this particular hex.

He couldn't quite remember the words, but the description he could. The spell was centered at the stomach itself, weaving itself into the fluids before inducing one to feel nauseous. Once the victim was appropriately heaving up what was inside the stomach, the magic transfigured the fluids into slugs upon passing the throat. That was the only redeeming part of the spell for if the transfiguration happened any sooner, Ron would be filled with slugs and not upchucking them every few minutes.

So Vlad focused his intent upon Ron's stomach, feeling for the magic concentrated there, and snapped his fingers while murmuring, " _Finite Incantatum_."

Considering the young vampire had never done this before, he half expected Ron to continue choking. But when the redhead gasped aloud and nothing came forth but air, Vlad grinned in silent victory. He heard Hermione release a relieved breath and Harry exclaim, "You did it!"

Vlad looked up and motioned towards Ron. "I think I've stopped the spell, but it's probably a good idea to bring him up to the Hospital Wing just in case and have him looked over."

Harry and Hermione were more than willing to do so, but the rest of the Gryffindor team volunteered their own services as well. In the end, all of the Gryffindors decided on a trip to the Madame Pomfrey's, smiling and joking about the entire thing as if not two seconds ago they had been arguing fiercely with the Slytherins. It was so different a dynamic from the one his housemates practiced that Vlad couldn't help but stare a little.

"Hey."

Vlad turned to see Harry the only one still lingering behind, a grin still on his face. "Thank you for doing that. You didn't have to."

"I just wanted to help. I didn't exactly want all of that to happen."

"I know that," Harry seemed in thought. "Which makes me wonder why…"

"Why I hang around them? They're Slytherins. I'm a Slytherin. It's a little unavoidable."

"But you're so different. You don't laugh at us like they do. You don't try to sabotage us in Potions, you don't sneer at us, you just – don't. You're a good person."

And while that made Vlad happier than he had been in a while – it just proof that he was not on his way to becoming a full-fledged vampire – he shook his head. "So are they. You know, the rest of my House isn't as bad as you think they are."

Harry clearly did not agree, but he stayed silent and allowed an impasse in their conversation rather than voicing his opinion.

Vlad decided to take advantage of it. "I never asked, but…are you okay?"

The Gryffindor shot him a confused look. "Yeah?"

"I mean how did it go after…"

Harry did not seem any closer to understanding.

Vlad sighed. "Dobby?"

Comprehension bloomed over the other boy's face and he immediately sobered. "It was okay."

The young vampire didn't want to push, but he knew better than most that keeping some things in wasn't exactly the best way to go. "Your uncle didn't exactly sound like the nicest person."

"He wasn't happy. I was – um – grounded. Almost didn't make it to Hogwarts but Fred and George and Ron managed to help me and…I'm sorry I just don't really want to talk about it."

Vlad frowned, but decided that was the best he was going to get. He had honestly gotten more than most would have considering.

"I'd better head up to see Ron," Harry finally muttered after a long pause, shifting a little awkwardly. "I'll see you."

Vlad nodded and watched Harry run towards the castle, wondering what this year had in store for the Boy-Who-Lived this time.

~0~

"You're angry with me."

It wasn't a question and Vlad didn't think it was worth looking up at Draco for. He merely continued to rub Nox, running his fingers through the midnight black fur.

"It's about earlier isn't it."

Nox yowled and leapt out of Vlad's reach as if to make the young vampire bereft of an excuse to ignore his friend.

"Maybe," Vlad replied.

"I think Weasley deserved it for trying to hex me."

"And maybe he did," Vlad shrugged. "But that was not the point."

Draco ground his teeth in frustration. "Then what is?"

"I don't think it was necessary to call Hermione a Mudblood."

"But she is!"

Vlad leveled a glare at the blond. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure there are more than a few other terms to call her."

"Like snob of a bookworm?"

"This isn't funny, Draco!" Vlad burst out angrily, allowing his voice to carry through their dormitory. The rest of the boys were out in the Common Room; it was rare for the others to come in to bed early and Vlad sometimes appreciated the solitude. "We could have avoided all of that, all of the arguing and the anger and everything, if you'd just stopped! I've told you before: it's  _strange_  how fascinated you are with ruining somebody else's day. Why couldn't you just let it go? I hope you realize that the entire school hates us because you – and others! – look for a fight."

"So what, you'd just have me stand there while the Gryffindors laugh at me, make fun of me? This is goes both ways: they ridicule us just as much!"

"Well then we should be the better men and not stoop to that level!"

"I hope you realize you're the strange one," Draco said harshly. "You're the only one who thinks that. Everybody else knows that Gryffindors and Slytherins don't get along –"

"And how would you know  _that_?" Vlad retorted angrily. "It's not like you ever tried. You can defend yourself all you want, Draco. All I'm asking is that you don't start it."

"That's ridiculous!"

"So what are you going to do, follow the rest of them? Just be another stereotypical Slytherin? I thought you could change, Draco. There's a reason why I'm friends with you."

And didn't that get the Malfoy heir's attention. He looked like a gaping fish, opening and then closing his mouth a few times before spluttering, "We're friends?"

Vlad blinked, a little flustered now. "Well – I thought –"

"Oh dear, am I interrupting?"

Both Draco and Vlad visibly flinched at the disembodied voice and turned to see the Bloody Baron floating through the nearby wall. Draco immediately paled; he had always had an irrational fear of the ghost. Vlad, on the other hand, scowled.

"So sorry," the ghost drawled. "But I'm afraid I need to borrow Mr. Dracula for a moment."

Vlad was reluctant to acquiesce, but Draco all but ran out the door. It was most likely due to his intense discomfort around the Bloody Baron, but the young vampire had a feeling the blond was also eager to leave their discussion.

"I would tell you that you're wasting your time on that boy, but I know you wouldn't listen," the Bloody Baron murmured a few moments after they were left to themselves. "If, perhaps, he did not have the family that he does or the influences that he has grown up with, you might have had a chance."

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge." Vlad refused to believe the ghost. If that was true of Draco, what did that mean for him, a descendent of a long line of bloodthirsty vampires?

The Baron was perceptive enough to let the subject drop. Instead, he floated a little closer to Vlad's form and held out an envelope.

"Is that a letter?"

The ghost seemed to have to struggle not to snap something smart back. "It is. Take it."

Vlad was a little lost as to how he was supposed to take a transparent letter, but he did as he was asked. Moving forward, he reached out and brushed his fingers over the envelope. The sensation he experienced was akin to a slight tingling as his hand somehow found a grip on it and he pulled it close, opening the seal and pulling out the letter inside.

It took the young vampire a few moments to digest what he was reading. "Ghosts celebrate the day they died?" It was uncomfortably close to what vampires did. They too celebrated the day they left behind their mortal bindings.

"It is not that much different from celebrating birthdays."

"But that's the day you  _died_. I hardly would have thought it was something people celebrated."

The Baron crossed his arms. "People do not, no. But it has become something of a tradition amongst ghosts. Quite frankly, the more viciously you died, the more reason to celebrate."

Well, Vlad had heard stranger things. "So why am I invited? I'm not dead."

"Why you insist on this façade of humanity is beyond me," the ghost mused as if he were entertaining a humorous but ridiculous notion. "Sometimes I think you forget you are a vampire."

"But I'm not  _dead_."

"Quite right. You are, in fact, undead."

Vlad sighed. "You mean alive."

"No, undead. There is a distinct difference between the two."

It was pointless to argue with the Baron; Vlad had long since learned that the ghost was difficult to convince. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I just want to know why you invited me to your deathday."

"Celebrations bore me. Inviting you will make it amusing. Especially since you will be going as a vampire."

"What?" Vlad looked incredulously at the Bloody Baron. "Do you really think I am going to go just for your amusement? And as a vampire? I am just a normal student here and I'm not even a vampire yet."

The ghost was almost awash with victory. "Ah, but you are. If I recall, you owe me a few favors from last year. Two, to be exact."

The young vampire blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before he closed his eyes and groaned. This was what he got for trying to help Draco with the dragon and sneaking to through the trapdoor last year with the ghost's help. And he had no doubt that if he didn't, the Baron would reveal Vlad's secret to everybody who would be willing to listen.

"Fine," Vlad bit out, forcing the words past his teeth. "But I mean it when I say I'm not a vampire…or at least not a fully-fledged one yet. How do you expect me to play vampire?"

"I don't expect you to 'play vampire.' Just come as you are. Formal attire, of course, but you don't need to worry about the other details." The smile on the ghost's face was – for lack of a better word – haunting. "I just need you to acknowledge that you are one during the party."

Everything about this screamed danger, but Vlad had no choice.

He could only hope luck was on his side this time around.

* * *

**Small detail, but the reason why Vlad doesn't shiver like most people when he touches a ghost and feels a small tingling instead is because he is a vampire. Cold is hardly a problem for them and he is used to the drastic change in temperature, living with his undead father and everything. I'm sure he's shaken his own fair share of freezing cold hands.**

**This chapter was, admittedly, something of a filler chapter. I had to have something to bring him back to Hogwarts though and this was easing him back in (if "easing" is really the word for it).**

**Till next time!**


	26. Deathday

**Chapter 26: Deathday**

It seemed that Halloween was fast becoming one of those days that just never went quite right for Vlad. Last year it had been a troll and a near encounter with death. This year, it was a deathday party for ghosts. The young vampire could only hope that this year's events unfolded more peacefully.

He hadn't told Draco where he would be going. That wasn't even an option. He could not afford any sort of connection with vampires here and if Draco should ask where he was during the entire night, Vlad would come up with something vague.

The Bloody Baron probably expected him to arrive in full vampiric regalia with the cape and colors to match. But Vlad decided that he would be attending the deathday party with his regular student uniform. The only thing that would distinguish him as anything other than a wizard would be if a ghost specifically asked him if he was vampire. Vlad had promised the Baron that he would say yes, he was a vampire should anybody ask.

The party would be taking place in the dungeons, not so far away from the Slytherin Common Room. Finding the passageway was not difficult; he had heard his fair share of Slytherins mentioning the mysterious long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light on any who passed. Many knew of the ghost parties that took place down in the dungeons but few paid much attention to them. After all, none were ever invited and neither did they wish to be.

Vlad easily found the described path, the temperature dropping with every step he took. As he made his way closer and closer, he heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard. It far from disturbed him. Even if it was unpleasant, it was not quite so different from some of the old music his own father listened to. Vampires enjoyed their share of classical music (quite frankly the only thing they would admit Breathers could compose decently), but several including the Count clung to the old ways and the hair-raising compositions that accompanied it.

As Vlad turned the corner, he caught sight of Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, standing solemnly at the entrance.

"Ah, hello," the ghost said with a sort of neutral cordiality. "Vladimir, I presume?"

Vlad uncomfortably shifted his cloak. "Yes. Um, I'm here for –"

"You are the Bloody Baron's guest, yes. He did mention that he would be inviting one of the Slytherins this year to my deathday party. Welcome." The ghost bowed and swept Vlad inside with a sweep of his hat.

It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand more black candles.

But Vlad was not caught in awe for very long. It was very similar to vampire celebrations and his mind was occupied by other questions.  _His_  deathday party? Nearly Headless Nick's? Hadn't it been the Baron's deathday party Vlad had been invited to? It hardly made a difference, but why did the Bloody Baron not mention it before?

The young vampire made a point of carefully maneuvering around the ghosts. He knew, from his own experiences with the Baron that they did not take being walked through very well. It reminded them that they weren't living. The Slytherin ghost had laughed then, after the explanation. Because apparently, Vlad felt "different" from the others who walked through. According to the ghost, the young vampire felt less harsh, less  _living_  than the others.

Vlad had refused to talk to the Baron for a good few weeks after that.

He passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. He wasn't surprised to finally spot the Bloody Baron, gaunt and covered in silver bloodstains, standing at the perimeter of the room alone. The sight struck Vlad a little sadly because he had seen a long time ago that even other ghosts avoided the Baron. Why, the young vampire did not know yet.

The first thing Vlad said when he approached the Slytherin ghost was, "Care to explain?"

"It slipped my mind. I always forget who dies when," the Baron replied blandly.

"Even when it is your death?"

"Especially when it is my death."

Their conversation did not go any further before a call of hunting horns sounded and a dozen ghost horses came galloping through the windows, all with riders clutching their heads in their arms.

"The Hunt," the Baron said in explanation. "You could say they are something of celebrities amongst us."

Vlad could have surmised as much from the applause that accompanied their entrance. The majority of the ghosts present were excited to see these headless horsemen – all except for Nearly Headless Nick apparently. The Gryffindor ghost had a sour look on his face at their arrival and it struck Vlad that perhaps Nick wanted to be a part of the Hunt too but, considering he was only nearly headless, had been rejected.

The young vampire ran his eyes over the crowd again, but this time, he finally spotted the three small figures standing amongst the horde of ghosts.

"For all things evil…!" Vlad breathed out in horror, his eyes unable to peel themselves away from the forms of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"It's quite alright."

"Like garlic it is!" Vlad snapped, whirling upon the Baron. "You knew they were coming! That's why you didn't tell me this was Nearly Headless Nick's party! I would have realized that he would invite those three." And the young vampire would have. It was rather common knowledge that the three were as close as any student would get to the Gryffindor ghost.

"They haven't even noticed you. And look, they're already leaving. How rude."

It was true. As one of the headless horsemen greeted Nick and began interrupting his deathday speech, the three Gryffindors bolted as soon as they could. Vlad would have liked to join them.

"What if they did see me? What then?"

"They didn't. And even if they did, you could just say I invited you."

Vlad grit his teeth and turned away. What the Baron said was true, but the idea that they could have overheard him say he was a vampire sometime during the night terrified him. The last thing he needed was for those three to know.

"Look alive," the Slytherin ghost said wryly. "It seems we have finally been noticed."

Vlad looked up to see the horseman who had been harassing Nick come floating over. "Why if it isn't the Bloody Baron!" the ghost exclaimed. The rest of the congregation seemed uneasy, even the other riders. But this particular headless ghost was either fearless or foolishly brave to do what the others wouldn't. "How have you been doing?"

"Poorly," the Slytherin ghost replied curtly.

"That's good, that's good! Wouldn't want to be doing well, now would we?" The ghost caught sight of Vlad standing beside the Baron and he asked, "Now who would this be? I don't think I've ever seen you invite one of the students."

"My name is Vladimir, sir."

"Vladimir? No last name to stand proudly behind?"

It seemed the Bloody Baron had anticipated this. His lips were curved into the smallest of satisfied smiles and he eyed Vlad as if to ensure the young vampire would say the truth as he had promised.

Vlad licked his lips. He wasn't ready for this, but he couldn't go back on his word now. He could only pray that this particular ghost would be as clueless as the rest of the other ghosts in Hogwarts had been so far. "Dracula."

"Oh dear," the horseman chortled, his expression taking on a look of knowing and slight anger. "By my grave, you have gone and gotten yourself one as well, Baron." A satisfied smirk touched the rider's lips. "Saw mine and got a bit intimidated did we?"

"I hardly think yours was much to look at."

"No? My vampire has killed many, encouraged many to my following. They –" the ghost gestured at the rest of the crowd. "– might fear you and you might revel in your death, but you know I am stronger than you."

Vlad paled. What on earth were they talking about?

"You delude yourself." The Bloody Baron's voice was colder than ice and the rest of the ghosts murmured uneasily amongst themselves. "I believe your sense left you the day your head did, Sir Patrick. Your vampire is nothing but a scoundrel, a mere Halfling. What pride is there in that?"

"Well, yours is but a child – not even full grown," Sir Patrick snarled.

"But you recognized his last name just as I did."

The horseman shifted his head in his arms and scowled. "Dracula. It is difficult to not recognize it." The mention of Vlad's family name seemed to have settled Sir Patrick, or at least convince him to stand down. The ghost, so prepared for a confrontation, visibly composed himself and looked at Vlad in the eyes. "Born vampire, aren't you? You might think yourself superior amongst your species, boy, but don't forget for one moment that not all vampires like your family."

Sir Patrick's hostility did not rub well though, and Vlad only raised his chin in defiance. "That is old news, sir." It was actually a point of pride for his father to list the amount of enemies they had – enemies that either respected them too much to actually take action against them or too afraid to.

The horseman left then, floating back amongst the uncomfortable crowd and Vlad spent the rest of the evening huddled against the back wall trying to disappear.

~0~

The ghosts knew the Draculas. Of course they did, the Baron decided to explain later. They had all known from the very first day Vlad's name had been called for the Sorting. But they were too fearful, too struck by old memories of the Dracula terror to do much about it. Many of the ghosts at Hogwarts had died long ago, when wizards and vampires still mingled, and none of them ever forgot. This was what would keep their mouths shut about Vlad's secret because even though they probably wished to reveal it, they most likely feared the repercussions. Only the Slytherin ghost had bothered to speak to Vlad and he had made it clear to the others that the young vampire did not want his secret to be known.

Vlad hadn't been quite so sure whether to be thankful that the Baron had said what he did, or needled that he probably owed the ghost again. It was obvious the Slytherin ghost did not declare such a thing out of courtesy for his House's student, but for his own gain. As long as the other ghosts kept it secret and feared Vlad's family too much to go against it, the young vampire would always be pressed to comply with the Baron's meddling for only the Slytherin ghost had enough craziness in him to threaten Vlad.

As far as Vlad was concerned, it was just another horrible Halloween and left as soon as it seemed appropriate. He wasn't aware of what had happened while he was holed away at the deathday party until he stepped into the Slytherin Common Room to find everybody crowded inside and staring at him.

"Mr. Dracula," Professor Snape drawled. "We were all beginning to think you were the next victim already."

* * *

**I know, this chapter was really short. Not even 2,000 words! But I cut it here for a reason. Partially because I figured it be better I update rather than not, and also this kind of concludes the introduction of Second Year. After this, the characters are actually into the main plot/conflict of the year.**

**I figured Vlad - being a vampire and all - would be less of a bother when passing through ghosts. He isn't fully undead yet, but he's not exactly human and completely alive either. Vampires that aren't mature yet are in a strange state of not-quite-dead and not-quite-alive.**

**And the whole conversation between Sir Patrick and the Bloody Baron might seem confusing now, but it will be cleared up later.**

**SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO DID NOT SEE THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE NEW SEASON OF YOUNG DRACULA NEXT (but kinda important so you might want to read it once you have seen it).**

**I did NOT expect the first episode of the new season of Young Dracula to screw my plot over so royally. I honestly based a lot of things on the fact that Vlad is pure vampire and the son of Magda and the Count. So I decided I'm not going to open the can of worms that is "Vlad is actually half human." I am going to write the rest of the story with Vlad as a pure vampire because if I did introduce the other, I would have to change a lot of things or add a whole bunch. So yeah...no.**

**Till next time!**


	27. Of Chambers and Secrets

**Chapter 27: Of Chambers and Secrets**

Draco did not fail to notice that Vlad could hardly focus on his breakfast the next morning. It was hardly a surprise for the young Malfoy heir. When Vlad had heard the news of Mrs. Norris' petrification and the bloody message painted on to the wall, he had turned a sheer white. A part of Draco had expected the other boy to faint on the spot from his expression, but Vlad had handled it well and had accepted Professor Snape's detention dutifully. But from the way the other boy had refused to make eye contact with anybody for the rest of the evening and the way he couldn't seem to focus on his classwork before curfew, Draco had a fairly good impression that Vlad was far from happy.

Normally, Draco would leave it at that. He knew better than to bother Vlad when he was in such a brooding mood, but the idea that the other Slytherin might be a… _friend_  made the Malfoy consider talking things out. Draco wasn't stupid. He had known for a while now that whatever relationship he had with Vlad was no longer hostile; it hadn't been that way for a long time. But something within him, the little part whispering that there was no such thing as a real friend, made him hesitate. Was he ready for this? An actual friendship? Blaise, Theo, and the rest of the Slytherins he had known since childhood were close acquaintances. But that was it: acquaintances. Nothing more. Nothing less. He couldn't exactly afford anything more when their respective families would manipulate any piece of information, any weakness. With them, Draco could never forget that they were first and foremost loyal to their own households.

Was Vlad any different? Draco did not know much about the other boy, but what he did know was that his fellow Slytherin was far from poor, from a family line in Romania, annoyingly talented, and too much of a Gryffindor for his own good.

A lot of things were telling Draco that this would be a bad idea. Being friends with Vlad Dracula probably entailed a lot of unappealing things like actually getting along with the other Houses. But he had only known one person outside of his family to take the fall for his sake and Vlad had proven enough times that he was willing to stick his feet in a patch of thorns if it meant helping out Draco a little.

Ugh. Friendship.

So when Vlad stood up from the table, slinging his bag of books over his shoulder moodily, Draco forced himself to follow close behind.

The action didn't go unnoticed. When they were alone in the halls, having left breakfast a little early, Vlad glanced at Draco and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Well – I mean – no. Not really." Draco was at a slight loss. It struck him in the moment that he was not very good at the whole confronting-your-friend-about-their-problems affair. "Just wanted to get to class early too."

It was to Draco's great relief when Vlad seemed to take this at face value and changed the topic of conversation. "What is it about Slytherin that so many people don't like?"

"I'm not so sure to be honest. Especially when we are so much better –"

Vlad shot the blonde an annoyed glance. "No. Not us. And we're not  _better_ , Draco. I was talking about Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin. What is it about him that so many people don't like? I've read that he had a spat with Gryffindor, of course, and he disliked Muggleborns and he spoke Parseltongue, but –"

"That's it."

"What?"

"That's what makes people dislike him so much. He spoke Parseltongue."

A confused expression overcame Vlad's face, his brow scrunched in a furrow. "I thought it was because he wanted to kick out the Muggleborns."

Sometimes, Draco forgot Vlad did not grow up in Britain. Almost everybody knew this. "No, it is because he spoke Parseltongue. A lot more wizards don't appreciate the Muggleborns than you think. That is not so much a problem; even Light wizards can dislike them. But everybody knows that Parseltongue is usually the mark of a Dark wizard and that trait pretty much started with Slytherin."

"It's that much of a taboo?"

"Enough to make even some of us nervous about it. Don't get me wrong, Dracula. We – the Slytherins – respect it. After all, it's just another advantage to be able to speak to snakes. But even we know that things are… _different_  when it comes to the wizards who can speak Parseltongue."

"Parseltongue, huh…"

Draco gave Vlad a considering look. "What brought this on, anyway? Is it about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"N – okay, yes." The other boy gave the Malfoy heir a glance. "I just read about it before coming here and it makes me a little worried."

"Why? You're not Muggleborn. What do you have to worry about?"

"I worry about the Muggleborns obviously. Not myself. I wouldn't want to see somebody dead, would you?"

Draco decided that if he were to take on this whole friendship thing, it would be best to not answer that question.

Vlad sighed at the lack of reply and shifted the book bag on his shoulder. It was with a potent note of irritation that he grumbled, "I just want a normal school year."

~0~

Evenings found Vlad stalking the dark halls of Hogwarts and meandering into the Restricted Section of the library. It was not difficult – not anymore. Vlad never would have even considered doing something do dangerous before but now that he had Harry's Invisibility Cloak in his possession, doing things like sneaking about was considerably easier. It only helped that he did not need to worry about Mrs. Norris, especially since she had a knack for finding students. More often than not, she only graced him with a haughty glance before departing to find some other unfortunate student.

As his eyes wandered the spines of the countless books hoarded safely away from the majority of the school, Vlad sometimes couldn't contain a shiver. There was a reason why this place was called the Restricted Section. He had stumbled upon more tomes of Dark magic and other forbidden arts than he cared to admit. And while he had been lucky enough to only stumble across a screaming book only once, Vlad was now more cautious than ever when selecting his reading choice.

His mind wandered back to Draco's mention of Parseltongue as he ventured into the library once again a few days after that particular conversation. It made sense now that pieces were in front of him. Salazar Slytherin had supposedly built the Chamber of Secrets. His trademark was that of a snake, of his Parseltongue abilities. The Chamber of Secrets housed a dangerous, unnamed creature. It did not take a genius to put two and two together. There were a variety of lethal reptiles in the magical world, but none were more deadly and more renowned than the Basilisk.

Vlad couldn't be positively sure that was what had slithered out of its hiding place and petrified Mrs. Norris, but he was convinced that his idea was as close to correct as it could be.

Dobby had spoken about the Chamber of Secrets and of an Heir of Slytherin. Now that Vlad knew the house elf wasn't lying, he feared what would happen next. Opening the Chamber had frozen a cat and although it was treatable and relatively harmless, it was difficult to ignore the bloody message that had accompanied the act.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware," Vlad murmured to himself as his fingers touched the spines of books coated with dust. The Heir was the one conducting all of this. And even though Dobby had said it was Mr. Malfoy's goal to have this entire happening, he sincerely doubted that the man himself was the Heir. If Draco's family had some members capable of speaking Parseltongue, the blonde would have mentioned it by now. And if there was one thing Vlad  _was_  certain of now, it was that the Heir, being Slytherin's descendent, would have the ability to speak to snakes.

But who could it be?

Vlad didn't know enough yet to say. He still only knew the bare skeleton of information about the Chamber and only a vague idea that the Heir was somehow the culprit in all of this. No doubt, Mr. Malfoy had jumpstarted this somehow and while Vlad burned with the desire to confront Draco about this, he doubted that would end very well. The blonde had taken an odd turn lately, spending more time with Vlad and actually doing mundane things with him. They were at a comfortable place in their – dare he say it – friendship and he did not want to see it burn just because he had assumed wrongly.

But Vlad was stuck now in this whole Chamber of Secrets plot and it was beginning to frustrate him. Now he not only had to worry about Harry being dragged off and showing up dead the next day, but he now knew the entire school was at risk with this Basilisk (if it was indeed a Basilisk) on the loose.

Vlad sighed and turned away from the shelf he was exploring. Nothing was showing up, not even here in the Restricted Section, and he was beginning to think it was time to find some other source of information. It was getting late into the night and at this rate, he figured it would be best to head back to the dormitories and try again tomorrow.

He quickly strode out of the library and back into the halls, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. Vlad did not know whether the Cloak masked sound for he had nobody to ask and he would rather not take the risk.

Just as he was making a turn around the first corner to take the first staircase down to the dungeons, he froze in place as a figure strode past, a mere hairsbreadth away from his body. His heart stuttered in terror, thinking for a moment about how close a call that had been. But then his eyes focused upon the person who had walked by and realized that it was not a patrolling Prefect or even a teacher. It was a young girl, a First Year from the looks of it, with fiery red hair he knew belonged to only one family.

Vlad couldn't recall her name, but this was the newest and last Weasley to come to Hogwarts. What was she doing out in the middle of the night? Surely she knew that walking about would get her caught?

He considered it a moment, wondering whether he should stop her. But then he began to hear the sounds of footsteps echoing a little further down the hall and decided against it; it wasn't worth getting caught.

~0~

"You'll be cutting the slugs."

It was curt, swift, a command delivered without so much as a flick of a hand to indicate where Vlad would be sitting for the remainder of his detention.

He hadn't been looking forward to this. A part of him thought this was a rather unjust punishment considering he had technically not come after curfew. But it was just his luck that the petrification of Mrs. Norris and the Deathday party had happened at the same evening and Professor Snape had not been happy to note that one of his House was missing following such a crisis.

Vlad struggled to contain a tired sigh at the prospect of an entire evening of cutting slugs and merely replied, "Yes, sir."

He dragged himself over to the small stool settled in front of a cauldron full of writhing gastropods and picked up the small knife already placed on top of the cutting board. As he began his task, a small smile graced his lips at the thought of how much Renfield would love to have a plate of these things. His family's servant, Vlad suspected, was something a little beyond human with all of his eccentricities. Years around a vampire family probably had something to do with it.

"It makes one wonder whether you are concentrated or not upon your task with such a asinine expression upon your face."

Vlad jolted out of his thoughts and flushed, turning to look at the professor. "I'm sorry, sir."

"It also makes one wonder whether you are, in fact, content with conducting your task in the dark."

The young vampire frowned, glancing down at the materials in front of him. "I, uh, can see fine, sir. I'm not quite sure…" And then Vlad's eyes widened, realizing that although Professor Snape had a few candles lighting his own work, he was sitting a good half a room away. None of the light was reaching Vlad's particular station and it was with rising horror that he saw it didn't matter; he could see what he was doing just as well as he would have had there been several candles around him.

Vlad had always known he could see well in the dark, especially after his First Year. It was something he figured was a slight side effect of being the son of a vampire, but he had never been able to see so clearly in such dark before. When had this happened?

"It's just – I don't – I – the light from your candles are enough," Vlad managed to blurt out in his rising anxiety. The way the professor was looking at him made shivers run down his spine. It was neither accusatory nor particularly angry, but there was a curiosity there that seemed eerily reminiscent of the way the Bloody Baron often subjected the young vampire to.

"Interesting." It was all the older wizard said before turning back to grading his papers as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Vlad turned back to his task with shaky fingers and it took a good thirty or so cut slugs before he could breathe normally again. The room suddenly seemed stifling in light of his recent discovery and he tried to desperately reason with himself, tell himself that surely this wasn't so unusual. Surely this couldn't mean anything. Surely this wasn't a sign, one of those beginning markers of his vampire heritage. Surely, surely, surely.

Vlad couldn't help but wonder what color his eyes were now. Were they red? Was he going to spontaneously sprout fangs? He had to take a deep breath and about ten more slugs before reason kicked in telling him that none of those things were possible until he was sixteen. He was only twelve. This wasn't that big of a deal. It was something small, something that might even be helpful in his future wanderings at night.

He had been so concerned with the Chamber of Secrets lately that he had been forgetting why he was here in the first place. Vlad had ventured into the Restricted Section because of his desire to find a cure and he resolved with himself that he would have to return to that. What was he doing anyway, researching the Chamber on his own like that? Telling the professors would make more sense. Leaving this up to the actual grown members of the school was what he should be doing. What could he do that they couldn't?

"Mr. Dracula.  _Mr. Dracula_."

Vlad gasped a little as the professor's words finally brought him back to reality and he looked up quickly at the man, praying that he hadn't done something strange again.

"Mr. Dracula, your detention is over. You may return before curfew."

~0~

Vlad managed to go for a good two weeks before thinking of the Chamber again. He had resolved to keep out of it, to focus on his studies and his search for a cure to vampirism. But it only lasted until the day he saw a book on Parseltongue in Professor Lockhart's office.

It had been a particularly awful Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. After the disaster with the pixies, the professor had not brought in any more live magical creatures and instead had taken to reading the textbooks aloud to them and acting out the more dramatic scenes with his more favored students. Sometimes it was Harry and most of the time it was Vlad. The young vampire found it not only humiliating, but also annoying. Vlad wouldn't have minded Professor Lockhart's terrible teaching if the man didn't involve him. He had learned the year before how to study on his own and he would have done just that during the time the professor babbled on about inane facts.

After one terrible rendition of a passage from the man's novel, Wagga Wagga Werewolf, the man had pulled Vlad aside, oblivious to the taunting laughter that Draco never failed to deliver upon seeing his friend's poor acting ability.

"I just need a hand transferring some of these books," Professor Lockhart had said. "I get donations from grateful fans every year and I thought I would donate some to the school library. You want to help, don't you, Harry?"

The man claimed to have read them all thrice over and was well acquainted with their contents, but after getting one glance of  _Theories of Advanced Transformations_  as one of the books in the pile, Vlad figured the professor was only using this chance to get rid of books that weren't praising his fabulous cuticles in some way.

He had hauled all of the books to the library of course, with Draco helping out a bit to Vlad's slight surprise. Even with the blonde's jeers at Professor Lockhart's clear favoritism, the young vampire was a little pleased to see that Draco had taken the effort to wait and offer a hand.

They deposited their load to Madame Pince's office and as the librarian muttered on about how beautiful the books were even if they had come from "that yapping ignorant," Vlad's eyes fell upon a small book yellowed with age. The cover was simple brown leather, the rest of the pages held together by rough string, but it was the title that caught the young vampire's attention.

_The Snake's Tongue._

And if Vlad hadn't already been sure of Fate's determination to ruining his life, he was certainly sure of it now.

He had snuck it into his bag on the way out, with Draco and Madame Pince none the wiser.

Now, after a few days of painstakingly working his way through 10th century prose laced with Old English Vlad could barely decipher even with the help of several other books, he was about three pages into the book. It was slow work, but the information he had gleamed in the little he had deciphered was fascinating. Parseltongue was inherited, that much was explicitly stated from the first sentence. But apparently, the language could be roughly mimicked to a limited extent. Learned Parseltongue would never reach the fluidity and cohesiveness of articulation that inherited Parseltongue had, but it would suffice enough to have the basics of conversation. The book, it seemed, was dedicated to articulating how to get to such a point.

"Another book?" Draco moaned as they settled in front of the Black Lake. "We get a free hour and you use that time to study more?"

"I wouldn't be talking," Vlad sniffed. "Don't think I don't see you finishing your essays all of the time."

The blonde rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "That is different. What I am doing actually has something to do with our classes. Whatever you read is always some random book on pixie dust."

"That was a good read."

"And very helpful, I'm sure," Draco drawled. "I mean, you will probably never see another pixie again unless you decide to live in the middle of a forest for the fun of it."

Vlad shrugged in reply and turned back to  _The Snake's Tongue_ , furrowing his brow when the next word he came across was yet another he did not know.

"What are you reading this time anyway?"

Vlad was prepared to lie, his mouth open to saw something about the mucus of grindylows when he found Draco's face peering over. "Hey!" Vlad exclaimed, shoving the Malfoy heir away hurriedly.

But it was too late because Draco, sprawled on his back after being pushed, had a wide, knowing smirk on his lips.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"I –"

"You're reading about Parseltongue!" There was eagerness in Draco's voice Vlad had hoped he wouldn't hear. "And not only that, you're  _learning_  it, aren't you?"

Vlad flailed helplessly for words before swallowing and admitting, "Yes. So what?"

"So that's pretty…strange for you, isn't it? I didn't know you were so interested in Dark Magic."

"I'm not," Vlad protested. "This is just a language. What's so wrong about that?"

It was clear Draco still thought otherwise, but he was still smiling. "Alright, alright. Not Dark magic then. But why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I thought you said most wizards find this weird."

"I don't," Draco grinned. "I've always wanted to learn a bit more about Parseltongue."

If that didn't say all there was to say about Draco, Vlad didn't know what did. "Okay, that's good I suppose."

"I want to learn it too."

The young vampire blinked. "I – what?"

"I want to learn it too," the blonde repeated. "We can learn it together. I could help you out."

"How?"

"I grew up with the best, Dracula, did you really think my parents wouldn't have made me learn a good bit of Latin and Old English? That's what you're having trouble with, right? That's why you were carrying some Old English books the other day."

Bats, Draco was much more observant than Vlad gave him credit for. Usually, the blonde was too engrossed in himself and what he wanted to really show it, but the young vampire had nearly forgotten what household Draco had been raised in. Of course he had noticed.

"Come on," the blonde urged. "It would go a lot faster if I could help you read it."

And as much as Vlad wanted to say no, he realized that saying yes was the only thing he could do now. Draco might be his friend, but he was still a friend who was willing to do anything for what he wanted.

"Only if you teach me Old English so I can read it too."

Draco's widening smile sealed the deal.

~0~

"I'm so sorry!" Vlad cried as he stumbled into somebody while running to the library. He had promised Draco they would be meeting for another lesson in Old English and he had been running late. "Let me help you."

The young vampire crouched down and grabbed the nearest book lying open in an effort to make up for his mistake, only to find it snatched out of his hands with a swiftness that left him blinking.

"Don't touch that!"

Vlad looked, bewildered, at the young girl in front of him and he was immediately struck with a sense of déjà vu. It had only been a few nights ago he had nearly run into her, the First Year Weasley girl.

"Watch where you're going then!" she snapped, hugging the book she had taken from him to her chest. It was a small, black volume – more of a journal probably than actual school material. The girl was already shrugging her book bag over her shoulder and she shot Vlad a glare before stalking away.

It was as if he had been hit by a small, fiery whirlwind and a part of Vlad wondered if all girls were as touchy. He hadn't meant to stumble into her after all.

As he stood up and strode the rest of the way to the library, Vlad couldn't help but wonder whether the small book the girl had been holding was hers. He had seen the small inscription on the front page while picking it up and what he had seen there puzzled him.

After all, he was fairly sure her name wasn't "T. M. Riddle."

* * *

**Sorry about taking so long to update!**

**About Draco, I was wondering whether to get him involved this time; I kept him out of Vlad's business regarding the Philosopher's Stone the in First Year because he wasn't close enough to Vlad for that to happen. But they are friends (even if they both haven't exactly admitted it aloud yet) and I think it's about time Draco got his own share of the mess Vlad is in. Not that he knows it's a terrible mess yet, poor guy.**

**Yes, Vlad's vampiric side is growing a bit. A little inevitable no matter what he wishes otherwise. I'm debating on how much how soon but I can tell you it will be gradual. (Sorry to those of you who hope it happens quickly!) And I want to keep his secret under wraps for now too. We'll get there when we get there. :)**

**Till next time!**


	28. Never in Moderation

**Chapter 28: Never in Moderation**

"What do you mean you're not going?" Draco asked incredulously as he dragged his Quidditch jersey over himself. "I mean okay, I get that maybe you didn't want to see the preliminary rounds. But this is one of the determining matches for the Cup!"

Vlad shot the blonde an exasperated look. "Remember the last time I went to a game?"

"If you sit far enough away from the Gryffindors I'm sure it shouldn't be such a problem."

In all honesty, Vlad just didn't have the heart to tell Draco that he just wasn't interested. He had tried it once and that had not only turned out to be a great waste of time, but it also turned out to be one of the events that culminated into the result of one of the world's most valuable stones hidden in his trunk.

"Look, Draco, I just can't come today."

It was a mistake to look up because just before the blonde turned away, there was a brief flash of hurt on his face. "Okay. Alright. Do whatever you want."

Vlad slapped a hand to his face and sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll go –"

"Great!" Draco exclaimed, turning around with a grin on his face as if whatever disappointment he had been harboring earlier had evaporated.

"But only if I get to show up a little late."

The blonde frowned. "Why?"

"I want to catch up a little on, well, you know." Ever since they had begun reading  _The Snake's Tongue_ , Vlad had found the language particularly difficult even with Draco's helpful knowledge of Old English. The Malfoy heir, on the other hand, seemed to have one more thing to gloat about when they were alone. He was by no means fluent in Parseltongue yet – they never would be – but Draco was already a good two chapters ahead. And while it was doing wonders to Draco's mood and making him less and less inclined to implicate himself in Harry's business, the fact that the blonde might be excelling in something they shouldn't be excelling in made Vlad uncomfortable. He trusted Draco as a friend. But he didn't trust Draco to always do the right thing. And far as the young vampire was concerned, there were a lot of things the blonde could do wrong with Parseltongue.

All the more important for Vlad to catch up and even get ahead. He was getting a rather good grasp on Old English, enough to get by, and he was the one they had agreed upon to keep the book since he had been the one to find it.

"Alright," Draco finally replied reluctantly. "Just make sure you show up before it ends, alright?"

When Vlad was sure the blonde was gone and nobody in earshot, he swiftly turned to his trunk and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak, whispering into the air, "Baron."

The Slytherin ghost poked his head through the ceiling a moment later. "How did you know I was there?"

"It's always a little colder whenever you wander by," Vlad murmured as he shoved the Cloak into his bag and extracted  _The Snake's Tongue._ "You fluent in Old English by any chance?"

"What do you take me for? I have been dead for many centuries longer, little leech."

"I need you to translate this for me." The young vampire held out the Parseltongue text. "And make sure nobody knows you have it or where you got it from. I need it back in three days at the very most."

"And what makes you think you can summon me and command me to do your bidding?"

"There is something you're not telling me. That headless ghost, the head of the Headless Hunt, mentioned something about me being  _your vampire_. Like I belong to you or something."

"I told you I would tell you eventually."

"Well, that doesn't matter. I still expect you to tell me. But I won't push now. What I called you for in exchange is the fact that you somehow stamped me as  _yours_  in the first place. I don't recall allowing you to own me."

"That's not –"

Vlad turned piercing, steely eyes upon the ghost. "Are you going to do what I asked or not?"

The ghost merely looked at him for a moment, unmoving. Then he shook his head and clasped the book in his long dead hands. "How did you know I would even be able to hold this? Ghosts cannot hold things of the living. It is by mere chance that this was written on parchment treated with belladonna."

"It probably isn't just chance," Vlad replied curtly, turning his attention back to locking his trunk from outsiders. "I figured that I didn't stumble on that book by accident. It's too rare. And I've seen my…father treat all of his parchment with belladonna. Tradition, he always said. Besides, if a lot of people knew that book existed, would it be just left in the open like that? No, there's somebody else in this equation."

The Bloody Baron merely pursed his lips in thought before saying, "I will do as you ask, vampire. But do not let arrogance get to your head. Do not presume you can do the same to other beings as old as I."

Vlad didn't wait to watch the ghost disappear back through the ceiling before he was striding out the dormitory and out of the Slytherin Common Room. He only had about ten minutes before the match started and probably another fifteen before he would have to start heading down the stands to keep his promise with Draco.

A few minutes later, he had found the girl's bathroom on the second floor.

A couple of days ago, he had heard a few girls complaining to their Housemates about the "horrid ghost haunting the bathrooms." At first, the conversation had hardly seemed worth listening to. After all, there were plenty of ghosts in the castle. But it was something they had said, something about the way the ghost would sob about her death, about dying so quickly and unfairly. It was a vague clue, so vague Vlad was probably imagining it. There were so many ways to die quickly. But only this "ghost haunting the bathrooms" had died here in Hogwarts with the exception of Professor Binns who everybody knew had died peacefully in his office while grading papers.

The moment he stepped inside, Vlad's shoes squelched in a flowing mess of toilet water. He winced, but took a little victory in knowing that the ghost he was looking for was indeed here. He wandered the stalls, looking into each of them and looking over the sinks stationed at the center of the circular restroom.

"Looking for somebody?"

Vlad jumped at the voice behind him and whirled around, nearly slipping on the water beneath him. "Moaning Myrtle?"

"The one and only," she giggled.

Moaning Myrtle, Vlad reflected, was not the most hideous ghost he had ever met. Her hair was pulled into pigtails and her face did sport spectacles worse than Harry's, but the fact that she was free of any death wounds and in possession of all her limbs made her look a great deal less gruesome than a lot of the other ghosts haunting the castle.

 _No death wounds_. It was an encouraging sign.

"What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Are you here to taunt poor Myrtle? Make fun of her glasses?"

"Actually, I was here to meet you."

She was skeptical, that was clear. The ghost raised an eyebrow and floating up atop the stalls. "Really? And why would you want to meet ugly, little Moaning Myrtle?

"I've heard about you."

"Oh, about how hideous I am! You  _are_  here to make fun of me!"

Good lord, this girl was almost worse than some vampires Vlad had met. "No! I've…heard of your amazing flooding powers."

The ghost was quiet for a moment before she began to wail shrilly. "Oh, Myrtle, who always cries! The crybaby! Well, I don't need you here gaping at me like some freak show!"

Vlad spluttered at the sudden onrush of toilet water. He hastily stepped away from the stalls to avoid the vicious surge. "No. No! No, Myrtle, I just wanted to ask – I wanted to say – Myrtle I didn't – Myrtle you're actually very pretty!"

That worked faster than offering Renfield a cup of rotten slug remains for dinner. Myrtle immediately ceased her sobs and cocked her head curiously at his last words and – to his horror – began to blush. Then she began to giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush and Vlad knew he had gotten himself stuck in something he really shouldn't have.

"Oh, you're too sweet," she smiled cloyingly. "Say it again."

"You – You're stunning."

"Really?"

"The glasses really suit your facial structure," Vlad bit out, trying not to choke on his own bile. "And your hair is very smooth from what I can see."

"Oh," Myrtle cooed, fluttering her eyelashes and twirling a lock of her hair with one finger. "I think I like you. What's your name?"

"Vlad."

"Well, Vlad," she breathed, floating down to him and trailing a transparent finger over his cheek. "I can't exactly refuse a man with good taste."

By garlic and morning sunlight, he would have to take a shower once he got back to the dorms. Vlad had no idea he could get the creeps so much from one ghost. "So, uh, you want to be friends?"

"Good idea. Starting out as friends."

"Oh, no, I – uh – we'll probably stay friends –"

"What?" There was a dangerous quivering in her voice.

Vlad grit his teeth. "Nothing. I, well, let's get to know each other first, okay?"

"Okay," she purred. "What do you want to know?"

Start delicately. "What was your favorite subject when you were alive?"

"Divination," Myrtle replied without hesitation. "Olive Hornby could never find me whenever I went to hide there."

"You were bullied?"

"Every day," she sighed dramatically. "Don't you feel sorry for me?"

"Yes, of course," Vlad tried to say with conviction. "It must have been awful."

"Terrible," she bemoaned. "But let's hear about you. Why is a little vampire interested in little old me?"

Vlad stumbled back immediately and slammed his back heavily into the rim of one of the sinks. His eyes were wide and he was beginning to think he had underestimated this seemingly brat of a ghost. He had assumed she wouldn't know about him because it was rather obvious from the rumors that she only sulked in the bathrooms, engaging in little contact. But just because she was young in appearance was misleading and Vlad should have known.

Vlad licked his lips. "I –"

"I've always wanted to talk to a boy in the dark," she giggled, clapping her hands. "Hear him tell me sweet things. I died too young to experience things, you know? You  _can_  see in the dark, right? It's always so boring talking to students with the candles on. More fun the other way."

"Wait –" The bathroom was plunged in darkness and whatever Vlad was going to say died in his throat. Far from blind, he could still see everything even when there weren't any windows to allow sunlight inside.

"This is going to be fun!" Myrtle laughed, floating back up to him. "You  _can_  still see me! Now tell me, why are you interested in me? I've never had a Magical Creature like me before. It feels like forbidden love."

Vlad's breathing was shallow, coming in swift gasps as he tried to ignore how  _vampiric_  it was to be able to see so perfectly in the dark. "I – I just wanted to get to know you."

"Because of my charm?"

How on earth could he knew about her "charm" if he had never met her until today? Regardless, Vlad quickly nodded and replied, "Definitely."

"Oh, you're so sweet!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands again like a child. "What about –"

"No." At Myrtle's darkening frown, Vlad hastily added, "No, I mean – isn't it my turn? Why don't I ask you something?"

"Okay. Ask."

"Um, I – er – I was wondering," Vlad had to take a breath to compose himself as Myrtle leaned impossibly closer, "who would kill somebody as pretty as you?"

"Ohhh," the ghost cooed. "You want to know how I died? You don't have to worry about me, darling, it was quick. Just two pairs of eyes. That's all I remember. Two large,  _yellow_  eyes."

For the first time since stepping foot in the bathroom, Vlad felt inclined to grin. That was it. That was it! There could only be one thing that could kill with its eyes only. But Vlad had to keep calm, keep himself composed. Myrtle could not know that was the only reason why he had come. "I'm so sorry. That must have been horrible." It was much easier to inject sincere emotion in his voice now that he had gotten what he had come for.

"I'd feel a lot better with a kiss," she simpered.

Vlad fought to keep a straight face as he delicately leaned forward, pecking her cheek in the briefest of kisses. It was simple enough if he just pretended it was another one of his father's acquaintances that demanded he do the same. It had happened enough for Vlad to carry out the action relatively smoothly.

"I'm sorry, Myrtle," Vlad said after pulling away. "I have to go now. I promised my friend. But I will come back. Until then…would you do me a favor?"

The ghost perked up at the idea. "For you."

"Yes, for me. Would you keep an eye out for anything suspicious? I think your killer is still in the castle and I want to catch them."

"For  _me_?"

"For you."

Myrtle let out a little delighted squeal and floated higher, clasping her hands. "Of course! It'll be like our little secret!"

"Exactly," Vlad murmured. "Keep it our little secret."

~0~

Vlad had underestimated how long convincing Moaning Myrtle would take, but luckily, this seemed to be a rather long enough match. By the time he made it to the stands, it seemed the two teams were still playing and the Seekers still unaware of where the Snitch was. Draco spotted him after a few minutes and offered a quick grin before focusing back on the game, always eyeing Harry for any sign of movement.

The young vampire let out a quiet breath of relief. He had accomplished enough tasks for today. For now, he would try and enjoy a game of Quidditch as best he could. Hopefully, this time Slytherin would win. As much as Vlad liked Harry, he was still enough of a Slytherin to hope for his House win and his friend's success. The game proceeded peacefully – or as peacefully as Quidditch could get and Vlad felt himself calming, his worries about the Chamber ebbing away.

"All right there, Scarhead?" Draco shouted in an effort to distract the other Seeker.

Vlad winced as Harry turned around to retort only to widen his eyes and narrowly miss a whirling bludger soar past his face. It would always be a mystery to the vampire why some people found the sport so fun when it could be so easy to get your face smashed in by a seemingly vicious ball of all things.

"Close one!" George Weasley exclaimed as he sped past, swinging his club to smack the bludger away. The redhead stuck out a tongue and grinned as he took careful aim at Adrian Pucey. "That should take care of it, huh?"

Vlad couldn't help but allow himself a little smile. The twins were difficult not to like, despite their destructive tendencies. They might have been categorized as troublemakers, but few could claim the same creativity that they had when it came to magic. From the smallest of pranks to the most elaborate of plots, they somehow always managed to get away with all of their mischief.

The bludger sped towards the Slytherin Chaser and everybody in the green and silver stands prepared to flinch as Adrian turned just a tad too late. But just as the ball was mere moments away from knocking the player out, it swerved direction and swung back around like a boomerang. There was a collective sigh of relief amongst the students around Vlad as well as a slight sense of confusion. What had made the bludger move away like that?

It seemed George was just as dumbfounded and he flew towards the bludger for another shot, but just as he swung again, the ball jumped to the side and made a straight beeline for Harry again. As if by some form of silent communication between the twins, Fred soared from the right and threw the bludger off course and this time towards Draco. It followed the direction for a few seconds before it reverted back to another course towards Harry.

Vlad frowned. He was no Quidditch fanatic, but even he knew that the bludger was never concentrated on one sole player. It was meant to disrupt the game as much as possible, getting everybody no matter the team. What was it doing? The young vampire glanced about the stands and the players, looking for anything that could be the source of the predicament. It wouldn't be such a wild guess to think that Harry was being targeted again, not after Dobby's intense concern and warning…

Oh, no. It couldn't be.

"Pardon me. Excuse me." Vlad stood up from his seat and hastily began to shove his way through his classmates. Several of them shot him annoyed glares and some muttered something along the lines of "bloody dunce," but the young vampire suddenly had something much more pressing of a concern.

He couldn't just have things happen in moderation, could he? It was always either nothing happened one day or everything happened.

Vlad stamped down the urge to groan aloud and quickly made his way down the stands. If his gut feeling was right and if Dobby really was as crazily determined as he remembered the elf to be, it was probably very important to take care of this before Harry died from a shot to the head. The only problem was, he had absolutely no idea where Dobby would be if he were, in fact, controlling the bludger. He paused at the bottom of the stands, behind the wooden structures marking the ring of the Quidditch pitch.

If he were to try and control a bludger, the best way to do so would be from a vantage point that allowed him to see everything. But that was no help. Almost every single structure surrounding the pitch allowed that. Yet, Vlad also had to take into consideration that there were spectators and oftentimes viewing could be sketchy depending on where you sat. If he had to bet on the one place where there was a view and the least possibility of surrounding interruption…

There was a vicious cracking of wood just behind him and Vlad shouted aloud as several wood chips showered him. He threw an arm over his head and look up just as the bludger came bursting through the bottom of the stands, plowing its way back again through the wood to return to the game. The young vampire stared disbelievingly at the gaping holes in the Slytherin seats for a moment – wondering how it still stood with such destruction of the base – before he spotted a flash of blond crumpled on the ground where the bludger had initially shot through.

"Draco!" Vlad exclaimed, running over to inspect his friend. He crouched down as he came near and shook the blond's shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

A small groan came from Draco's lips and he mumbled, "Potter's still up."

"I hardly think that matters when you probably have more than a few bones broken right now."

"I can't lose to him!" Draco spat, wincing at the effort it took him to sit up and grasp the handle of his broom that lie beside him. He shot a quick glance at the approaching form of Madame Pomfrey and said, "I can get these healed later. Right now, I have to get back."

Vlad knew better than to try and stop the Malfoy heir when he was on a rampage. Instead, he made sure to grasp Draco's arm quickly before he took flight and murmured a simple healing spell to close the various small cuts he had garnered from the splintered wood. Draco only offered a nod of thanks before soaring back into the stadium, narrowly missing Madame Pomfrey's wrath.

"The nerve of that boy!" the Mediwitch snarled. "The nerve of this  _sport._  Whoever thought it would be a good idea to pit children against each other in such a way –"

Vlad slipped away as she continued to curse every aspect of Quidditch and quickly resumed his search. Now it was imperative he found the elf. What if somebody else got hurt? He ran around the circumference, glancing up occasionally to make sure he was not missing which stand he was looking for, and finally began to rush up the steps to the commentator's booth.

It was by pure chance he tripped on an invisible Dobby just on the threshold of the viewing box and he wasted no time in pinning the elf down and hissing, "What are you doing?"

The house elf was clearly trying to ignore Vlad, its brow furrowed and its large eyes still glued to the game going on just a few meters away.

"Dobby!" Vlad hissed, hoping that nobody in the stand could hear what was going on. "Stop this right now. You're going to hurt people! You've already hurt Draco! And he's your Master's son."

"Dobby is only trying to help Harry Potter!" the elf relied, strained and slightly distressed. "Harry Potter is in grave danger!"

"From you! What happens if you accidentally hit him too hard? He could die! I don't know if this is news to you, Dobby, but those bludgers aren't exactly pillow-soft." When the house elf didn't reply and merely focused more on the Quidditch match, Vlad grasped it and murmured, " _Petrificus Totalus_." Dobby was immediately frozen and the young vampire wasted no time in grabbing the incredibly skinny creature and making a run for it.

Vlad barely made it to the edge of the Forbidden Forest before Dobby had successfully wormed its way out of the petrifying spell. The small elf thrashed in Vlad's arms, pleading to allow him to continue his task of "saving Harry Potter" and then – when the vampire showed no sign of listening – struggling all the harder to get away.

Vlad opened his mouth to repeat the same spell again only to suddenly lose his grip on Dobby when the creature bit him harshly on the arm. The vampire yelped and as the elf slipped out, he felt Dobby grasp the bangle on his arm and pull it off with the fall.

Almost immediately, Vlad felt something drain out of him and the sense of his magic buzzing constantly beneath his skin vanished along with the conductor. He gasped aloud at the emptiness and the loss threw him into a panic.

"Dobby sensed something," the elf said, its tiny hands (filthy _,_ disgusting _, get your unworthy paws off of it_ ) clutching the bangle. "Dobby was curious why young Mister did not carry a wand and Dobby is sorry. But Dobby must save Harry Potter."

"Give it back," Vlad said, his tone strangled and slightly desperate. There was a rising anger and fury replacing his terror and he was beginning to wish he had bashed the elf's head in when he had the chance. "Dobby,  _give it back_."

"Dobby can't. Not unless Mister Dracula promises to help Dobby in saving Harry Potter."

"I swear by my father's fangs if you don't give it back  _now –_ "

"Swear you will help get Harry Potter out of Hogwarts."

"Like  _hell_."

"Please, Mister Dracula, you must!"

"Why should I listen to you –"

"If you want your bracelet back –"

"It's a bangle!"

"Swear to Dobby and Dobby will give it back."

"No!" Vlad shouted in fury and lunged for it. He only managed to stumble as the elf vanished and reappeared to the side and never before had Vlad been so  _mad_.

"Dobby knows Mister Dracula is a good wizard! Mister Dracula means well and if only he could see that what Dobby is doing is only for Harry Potter's good…!"

Almost unbidden, a snarl erupted from Vlad's lips and he spat, "Harry doesn't want to leave and there's nothing you can do about it! He will fight to stay here rather than at that  _dump_  of a Breather house and if you can't see that he is happier here than he could ever be around his abusive walrus uncle than you're just not as clever as you think you are!"

The elf stepped back a little bit, his lips trembling as he bit them. "But –"

"Trying to take him away will only hurt him. The only thing you can do, if you really want to help Harry, is to help him right where he is."

Dobby was silent for a long time and as the elf contemplated Vlad's words, the young vampire glanced persistently at the bangle in its small hands. His sudden anger had died down abruptly and he only felt drained and tired. This wasn't what he had wanted, keeping secrets, making deals with ghosts, and feeling the urge to rip a simple house elf to shreds over a conductor. Given, without the bangle, Vlad would be kicked out of Hogwarts within a matter of hours and he wouldn't be able to do the magic he was learning. He hadn't really grasped how accustomed he had become to it all and the power that came along with it. It had happened gradually, slowly, and now Vlad had a horrible feeling that he would feel lost without his newfound abilities.

He shuddered at the thought. No, that wasn't normal. Not normal at all.

"A book," Dobby finally said, straightening and looking Vlad in the eye. "Dobby overheard Master speaking of a book. Dobby has seen it a few time when cleaning. Dobby has felt the evil in it. Dobby always knew there was something terrible about it."

Vlad frowned. "A…book? It's here? At Hogwarts?"

"Dobby doesn't know who has it. But Dobby knows the book is here."

That was, perhaps, the strangest clue Vlad had gotten yet. But he nodded and quickly grabbed back the bangle when the elf offered it. He let out a sigh of relief when he slipped it back on and the gentle thrum of magic returned.

"What does it look like, the book?" Vlad asked, finally calm and focused. He was still angry at the elf – how would the creature like it if Vlad took away its magic? – but he knew better than to linger on grudges. He had seen his fair share of vampires stuck within their own petty plots of revenge.

"Dobby remembers. Black. Small."

"What's in it?" What could be inside that would start all of this?

The elf blinked, and then said quietly, "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"And everything. Dobby does not know how to explain it."

Vlad let out a heavy breath and took a few minutes to absorb it all. He stared at his hands and wondered idly where he had acquired the Milkweed stain. Probably during Herbology.

"Dobby promises not to try to take Harry Potter away from Hogwarts anymore if Mister Dracula promises to help Harry Potter instead."

The young vampire had expected that, of course. What would have been the point of mentioning "the book" if the elf hadn't been hoping to help a potential ally? "Alright," Vlad replied, hoping he wasn't signing himself up for something too over his head. "I'll do it." A thought struck him and he added, "If you also agree to search for a couple of things in your Master's house."

"What things, Mister Dracula?"

"Anything about…Dark creatures. Anything at all."

The elf didn't question it. Dobby only nodded his large head. "Dobby will do it." Then the creature snapped its fingers and disappeared, leaving Vlad standing alone at the edge of the Forbidden Forest as the first cheers of a match won echoed in the distance.

~0~

Vlad woke up one Sunday morning to find one blue and one green eye peering back at him. Rather than shouting and jolting up as he had done the first few times, he blinked and raised a hand to stroke Nox behind the ears. The feline purred around the package of letters in his mouth and nuzzled closer to his master's chest in the laziness of a weekend morning. The pair lay like that for a few moments as the beginnings of the first rays of the day touched his bed's drapes and quietly bathed in the soft warmth.

Finally, Vlad shifted into a seated position, his bright pajamas contrasting almost painfully against the deep green of the bed sheets. "Let's see what you've got there," he murmured as he gently took the letters from Nox. His familiar curled up upon his lap and settled there knowing that reading and replying would take Vlad some time.

The first letter was from his father, the customary weekly letter asking how things were faring and reporting what was going on at home. It seemed nothing large had happened and that only occasionally did Renfield blow up a particular section of the castle during his experiments. There was nothing about Ingrid, of course, and Vlad hoped that his sister was dealing well.

The majority of the papers in his hands consisted of his father's long narratives of the events and it was only when Vlad got to the last did he see different handwriting.

Robin had been writing almost as consistently as his father. Nox made sure to make a stop by his house. Most of the time, they exchanged a few paragraphs about what life was like at their respective schools, Robin writing more though and expounding upon the beautiful terror that was Ingrid and the bore of the classes. He only sparingly mentioned the Van Helsings and only when it was important news at that. They seemed to have begun to think Ingrid was a vampire a few weeks back but nothing else had come of it. Vlad's hypnotism seemed to be holding and life at Stokely seemed, for all intents and purposes, calm.

Vlad tried his best to articulate what his life was like at the moment and avoided anything outside of Robin's current scope of knowledge. It was difficult to word his letters to speak the truth and avoid the more magical aspects of his schooling at the same time, but after a few weeks of it Vlad had made it into something of an art. He mentioned Draco and Harry and what the castle was like, but he never strayed too far into the class content and watered down anything antagonistic about his relationships.

He was interrupted while reading when he suddenly heard Theo say, "Well, don't I have news!"

A lot of the boys in the dormitory groaned, many of them choosing to sleep in on their rest days and Vlad distinctly heard Blaise mutter, "This better be good."

Vlad peeled back his drapes and settled himself at the edge of his bed, putting aside his letters for the moment.

"Remember that Mudblood? The little brat who always asks for Potter's signatures?"

"Yes, yes," Draco glowered, waving his hand for Theo to move on.

"You won't believe it! I was passing by the Hospital Wing this morning –"

"Why? Checking up on Potter and his poor broken bones?" Blaise snorted. "Or rather lack of them. That Lockhart is a piece of work."

Theo glared at his Housemate. "No, I just happen to choose to be productive on my rest days." He gathered himself and the excitement was back in his voice. "But you guys won't believe it! I was passing by and I saw Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster come out."

"As if Potter needed any more attention," Draco spat.

"That's not it actually," Theo answered, smug. "They were there for something else."

"What was it?" Goyle demanded, clearly believing it was too early in the morning.

The young Nott heir smiled and seemed to hold it in for a moment before revealing, "The brat's been petrified."

* * *

**Till next time!**


	29. Duelling

**Chapter 29: Dueling**

It was the first of many afternoons that found Vlad idly rifling through the translated pages that the Blood Baron had procured for him as the first of winter's snowflakes sprinkled the school grounds with speckles of white. The translations were surprisingly well written and concise; the young vampire had honestly expected them to be written in more of the complicated prose that had probably been prevalent during the Baron's time. They were written on paper treated with belladonna like the book itself had been and even then Vlad sometimes found the material to be a little more transparent than was comfortable.

Today was Draco's day with the book. It was the first time the blonde seemed to have such an enthusiasm in something that wasn't related to humiliating Harry Potter, Pureblood superiority, or Quidditch. Never once did he forget to ask Vlad for a chance to read the book and more often than not, the young vampire would catch the Malfoy heir muttering to himself in some seemingly indecipherable series of hisses.

That was now fine with Vlad; it was part of the agreement they had made about sharing the book. Not only that but, with the Baron's translation, the young vampire had managed to catch up if not surpass Draco already. There was no longer any danger of the blonde getting himself involved in something that Vlad could not comprehend. But Draco was  _so_  zealous about his studies that the other students in Slytherin had begun to notice as well.

And that was dangerous. Vlad had no fear that Draco would reveal what he was learning, not directly. He was far too absorbed in trying to learn something unique to make himself stand out. Telling others what he was up to would not help that goal. But Vlad knew that the rest of his Housemates were not fools and sooner or later, somebody would catch the one little thing that could set this entire thing off.

Vlad sighed to himself and unconsciously rubbed his upper sleeve where the bangle remained secure. It had become something of a habit to reassure the young vampire that his conductor was there. After Dobby had managed to take it away so easily, leaving Vlad so helpless, he had placed a few protective charms around it and had even spent the time to research the more complicated defenses to weave. It was unsettling to feel so dependent on one object and Vlad tried not to think about the implications that such a thing brought.

"Hey, Vlad." Draco stood up from his seat a few steps away, closing the little book in his hands. "Don't you think it's time we found some way to practice this?"

They were alone in this particular section of the library, having chosen to settle themselves in the Care of Magical Creatures portion. Still, they kept their voices low and oftentimes avoided incriminating words relating to Parseltongue or the title of the book.

"You seem to be practicing just fine. Do you mean practice with each other?"

"That wouldn't do any good," Draco shook his head. "We wouldn't know whether we're pronouncing things right or whether we're actually forming coherent sentences."

"You want to summon a snake then?"

The responding smile made Vlad want to sigh again. "Well, don't do it here. It could be dangerous if you were caught doing something like that."

"Would you want to come with me later then? I'm sure we could find some empty classroom to practice."

"I think I'll wait a bit," Vlad shrugged, in no hurry to push something Draco was already becoming obsessed with. "Why don't we get a little further in the theory first?"

"We're far enough. You're even ahead of me, although I have no idea how that happened." Draco pursed his lips. "You study too much for your own good. Why don't you do some practical application for once?"

Because Vlad was wary. Because he didn't want to do more than he had to. Because every time he did a spell people tended to stare at his lack of a wand. Because as amazing as casting magic was, it was always a reminder of where his abilities had come from in the first place.

There were a lot of reasons why.

"I think I'll study a little bit more."

That seemed to deflate Draco a bit, his eager expression dimming to disappointment. "Have it your way then," he murmured and settled himself back into the seat to return to hissing to himself.

~0~

Classes were still, quite frankly, a little awkward. He still sat alone and although it seemed like Draco had been considering otherwise lately, the blonde still sat apart. So there it was again, with Vlad stirring away at a black cauldron in the center of Potions class.

More often than not, Vlad was subject to the attempts of inter-House sabotage. There was always a stray ingredient flying over his head or one of the Weasley twins' latest inventions subtly making its way to the other side. It was – bluntly put – annoying. Not only did Vlad have to focus on his potion (or whatever he was doing in any given class), but he also had to make sure he himself did not end up the unintended victim by virtue of simply being in the way. But things had always been like this, ever since First Year. By now, Vlad liked to think himself a relative professional; he hadn't been hit since his sixth month at Hogwarts last year.

Professor Snape tended to ignore the attempts unless it was so blatant as to force his hand or the result was a gigantic explosion dangerous to everybody in the near vicinity. It seemed that to him, it was a you-live-or-you-don't type of situation when it came to Vlad.

Still, the young vampire did remain one of – if not  _the_  – top student. Draco and Hermione consistently challenged him for that title but Vlad learned to not let it get to his head.

Vlad made a point of never paying attention to the "accidents" unless necessary. He always focused on his potion and trusted the Professor to take care of whatever came up. On Thursday afternoon's class, though, there was an entirely different reason why he looked up from his Swelling Solution.

Being in the middle, the neutral field of sorts, Vlad was privy to any and all conflicts that went on. He oftentimes knew who threw what and into whose cauldron. Usually, it was Ron or some of the less cautious Slytherins. Only once had Draco succumbed to the temptation.

It was very rarely, though, that Vlad had ever seen Harry instigating any of the "accidents." And yet, today seemed to be the one exception.

As the Gryffindor leaned down, Vlad's eyes caught the uncharacteristic movement and his eyes widened a little when Harry jabbed one of the Weasley Filibuster fireworks to life before neatly chucking it with all the skill of a Seeker into Goyle's cauldron.

Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Draco got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Vlad saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.

A few distributed antidotes, a lecture of ominous threats from Professor Snape about consequences, and one Hermione's quick sneak out from the Professor's office later, Vlad was striding out of the class with Draco close behind swearing under his breath.

As Draco went on about how he was sure it was "that snit Potter," Vlad tried to sort what he had seen. It hadn't been a common occurrence, that much he knew. Blowing up somebody's potion for pure spite? Perhaps Vlad could have understood if Harry had been a rather poor mood or faced with a litany of unfortunate circumstances recently to engender such a reaction. But what had just happened was odd at the very least especially with Hermione's impromptu trip to the professor's supply closet. Vlad wondered who else had seen the transaction happen, but from what he had heard and seen so far, nobody else had caught the act.

Except, perhaps, Professor Snape. The man, during his entire tirade at the class, had glanced more than a few times over at Harry's direction. The tightening of his lips and creasing forehead had been almost enough to indicate his ire. Others might have taken it for his general suspicion of the famous Gryffindor, but Vlad knew a little better.

So Harry, Ron, and Hermione needed potions ingredients. For what, Vlad hadn't the foggiest. But something told him that it wasn't going to be for something as innocent as a quick prank over breakfast.

Nothing ever was that simple with those three.

~0~

A week later, Vlad found Draco bursting into the dormitory rooms where the young vampire was busy lounging on his bed with a book on defense magic propped on Nox's curled form. That in itself had recently become a common occurrence, with the Quidditch matches and their studying of Parseltongue often having the blond dragging Vlad around more than he cared to be dragged.

What made him look up this time was the fact that not only Draco came rushing inside, but also the rest of the boys sharing the room with him. Blaise was looking slightly more excited than his normal indifferent exterior and Theo was almost bouncing on his feet. Even Goyle and Crabbe were lumbering inside with more than their usual heavyset pace. All very odd for a normally controlled group.

The other boys dived for their wardrobes, pulling on a different set of robes and it only took Vlad's questioning gaze for Draco to explain, "They're starting a Dueling Club!"

Oh, bats. That would explain a lot.

Vlad thought it would be in his best interest to turn back to his book.

"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport. It should be good to learn some dueling etiquette. I thought you liked this sort of thing. It's not Quidditch."

"For once," Vlad sighed and snapped his book shut. Well, at least he had tried for the small amount of time he had. "Why is everybody changing their robes?"

"Sturdier robes," Draco replied, turning back to his own trunk and pulling out his own set. "You don't expect to go dueling in simple robes do you?"

Vlad frowned. "How did all of you know you would need it?"

The question went unanswered and that made Vlad more than a little uncomfortable. He made a mental note to ask his father for dueling robes in the near future.

"I'm sure it's fine if you go in normal robes for today," Draco was saying as he changed. "It starts in about half an hour though."

"So soon? Who is teaching it?"

At that question, Blaise let out an amused snort from his bed. "Lockhart, if you would believe it."

Vlad scrunched his nose up in distaste and he very nearly turned back to his reading. "Lockhart? Why on earth bother going then? Wouldn't Flitwick have been a better choice? Since he was a dueling champion?"

"Because our Head of House is assisting the session," Theo grinned as he popped his head around his bedpost. "It might not be exactly educational, Dracula, but even you have to admit this is going to be something to watch."

Theo couldn't be more right. It was a well-known fact that Professor Snape passively despised the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher not only for taking the position the Slytherin Head of House not-so-secretly coveted, but for also being a complete dunce while doing it. There was nothing the Potions Master hated more than blatant displays of poorly backed arrogance and ignorance he would not tolerate. To have it all packaged into one man created a more than obvious impression, at least among the Slytherin House, of absolute revulsion.

Vlad didn't really need any more encouraging. He couldn't exactly say he was a fan of Lockhart, not after that last skit he had been forced to perform two days ago.

Eight o'clock sharp, the young vampire stood beside Draco and the rest of the Slytherins in the Great Hall, flanked on their left by the attending Gryffindors. The dining tables had been removed leaving a large empty space for the great population of students who had shown up. A golden stage had been backed up against the far wall and the above their heads, the evening night twinkled bright with stars. The candles, so often only a few feet above their heads, now hovered further up and multiplied to provide more light.

It seemed the rest of the students weren't aware who would be teaching. Apparently, the notice had only mentioned the club itself. The Slytherins, despite their knowledge, kept silent and watched the doors eagerly for any sign of Lockhart or their Head of House.

It was only a few minutes later that Lockhart came striding in with deep plum robes and Vlad did not miss the audible groan of disappointment from the majority of the students. Professor Snape followed closely in his usual black and this time, a few groans and uncomfortable shifting accompanying his entrance. Vlad was just hoping that the Potions Master would be able to provide whatever insight Lockhart would not.

"Gather 'round! Can everybody hear me?" The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher grinned and then winked. "Can everybody see me?"

By garlic this was going to be a long evening. Vlad was beginning to think staying back and reading would have been more beneficial.

"Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start this little club to teach you all how to defend against creatures like the monster from the Chamber of Secrets. And after I have given you all the benefit of my knowledge, I'm sure you will all be nearly as brilliant as I." The man flashed another smile, full of teeth far too white to be normal. "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape! He says he knows a bit of dueling himself and while he has less experience, I promise you all that your Potions Master will be in one piece by the end of our little demonstration."

"I hope Professor Snape hexes him enough to make him unable to teach," Blaise mumbled irritably. "At this rate, we're never going to learn anything."

As the professors lined up on opposite ends of the stage, the two lined their wands up to their faces like swords and bowed, one with an elegant flourish of plum robes and the other with a jerky motion and a sneer.

"On the count of three," Lockhart called out to the tense and silent crowd, "we will each cast our spells. To disarm only." The two straightened. "One, two, three!"

Before the Defense teacher could so much as twirl his wand, the Potions Master was jabbing forward and exclaiming, "Expelliarmus!" There was a bright flash of scarlet light and the spell must have had a touch more power behind it than was intended because not only did Lockhart's wand go flying out of his hands, but he was also sent flying off the stage and narrowly missing a crowd of students close by.

Several of the Slytherin students whistled and more than a few chuckled at the sight. There were a few distinct voices gasping at the sudden assault.

After that particular display, Lockhart wasted no time in sorting the crowd into pairs for their own practice. Professor Snape followed suit, but with a murderous expression on his face only slightly tempered from the sight of the Defense teacher earlier sprawled on his back.

As Vlad was turning to Draco, he distinctly heard the Potions Master snarl, "Oh, no you don't Potter! Weasley can pair with Finnegan. You can pair with…"

Inevitably, the young vampire felt the man's gaze settle upon both himself and Draco. Deciding that it would be best to conduct some damage control before the actual damage occurred, Vlad quickly turned and said, "Draco will be fine with Pansy. I can pair with Harry, sir."

Draco let out an indignant squawk at that and he hissed, "Oh, you're kidding me!" But Pansy, ever tailing Draco wherever he went, was already dragging her "boo" away with a smug expression on her face. Vlad did not doubt that the Potions Master knew what he had just done, but the man allowed it to slide and stalked off to terrorize Neville a few feet away.

There was an expression of relief on Harry's face. "Thanks, Vlad. No offense, but I don't think I would have done so well with Draco as a partner."

"If you say so," Vlad replied curtly. Draco was a little misled, that was true. But the young vampire was beginning to get a little sick with everybody assuming his friend was just another snake without truly getting to know him.

Harry must have caught the sudden chill in Vlad's demeanor because he quickly backtracked, asking, "What exactly were we supposed to practice again?"

If Vlad hasn't known any better, he probably would have assumed Harry to be one of the Slytherins. Take away the crimson and gold tie and perhaps that perceptiveness would have done well in a different setting. "Lockhart never really specified. I'm guessing it's just the formal bow that begins the duel? And one spell."

So they went with that assumption and they each in turn mimicked the protocol they had seen in the demonstration before practicing a few incantations, one after the other. It was hardly any sort of tense duel, but it was good exercise for the both of them. After a few of the basic, harmless spells, Vlad noticed Harry was beginning to branch out into some of the more difficult invocations that were mentioned in the text. The young vampire, in turn, began subtly casting shields and countercurses with whispered spells. As tempting as it was the longer their practice went on, Vlad refrained from testing any of the more advanced spells he had studied on his own and merely tried to rebuff any of Harry's attacks. Vlad noticed It was a little more difficult for Harry to avoid the young vampire's own offensive incantations because he had no wand and therefore, there was no visible spell to follow and dodge. His magic acted in a more immediate hands-on way, so to speak.

They were panting slightly when Lockhart called a stop, but they were also smiling with the satisfaction of a good workout. As they straightened and looked around, they saw that several of the other pairs had been just as productive and some others had more than a little of their own problems. The majority of the older years had gotten the exercise completed with more finesse while the younger years seemed to have fallen to casting tricks. Vlad realized with a wince that Draco looked distinctly frayed from his own session with Pansy.

Lockhart himself looked a little frazzled and he was still shouting, "Stop, stop!" It seemed Hermione and Millicent had fallen to hand-to-hand combat, the smaller Gryffindor tied up in a headlock while Theo was trying to undo the Leg-Locking curse Justin had thrown at him.

"Perhaps we should begin with another demonstration," Lockhart said, standing flustered in the middle of the hall. "Let's have a volunteer pair."

"Why don't we have Potter and Malfoy?" Professor Snape suggested from the side, glowering like one of the countless bats that had hovered about Vlad's home back in Romania. The man seemed to be at the end of his tether, surrounded by students, and Vlad realized with dismay that this was not going to end well.

"Excellent idea!" Lockhart was saying, oblivious to what sort of chaos he was perpetuating. He ushered the two to the stage and the rest of the students fell into a clumped mass at the base. Vlad stood at the front and he was nervously eyeing Draco's excited expression.

The two professors leaned down and whispered advice to the students, Snape to Draco and Lockhart to Harry. It was almost sad to watch Lockhart fumble with his wand in an attempt to offer some sort of spell to cast and Harry's despairing sigh. Draco, on the other hand, was smirking as the Slytherin Head of House stepped back, finished with whatever he had to say.

"On the count of three," Lockhart proclaimed. "One, two, three!"

Harry cast first, that swift reaction born from natural skill that he displayed every time he was in a Quidditch match. The spell narrowly missed Draco as the blond swerved to the side and spat a hex in retaliation only to have it also fly barely an inch away from Harry's body as the Gryffindor dodged. Draco seemed to have anticipated that though and he cast another spell barely a second after he had finished the first.

"Serpensortia!"

Vlad nearly choked when he saw a thick, black snake shoot out from the end of Draco's wand, landing with a soft thump on the stage. Everybody froze at the sight and never had the young vampire wanted to strangle his friend more than he did now.

"I will dispose of it!" Lockhart exclaimed, hastily stepping forward as the snake slowly raised itself. He waved his wand and a moment later, the snake seemed to have disappeared. Vlad blinked, surprised that the man had not spontaneously botched the job. But when the snake came falling back down from the sky to land directly in front of him on the stage, the young vampire found himself eye to eye with a pair of lethal fangs ready to strike.

Vlad's immediate response was to cast a spell – any spell – to get the snake away, but before he could do so, a hissing made every freeze on the spot again.

At first, the young vampire thought it had been Draco. His friend had been studying Parseltongue feverishly and hungered to prove himself. What better chance than to do it now? But then Vlad's mind caught up and he realized that whoever had spoken had a much better grasp on the language than any unnatural practitioner of Parseltongue would ever have. With his limited knowledge of the serpentine tongue, Vlad had only caught something akin to "stop."

Looking up, he saw with a horrible sense of dread that it hadn't been Draco to speak, but Harry. Good garlic, as if the Gryffindor didn't have enough on plate. The guy now spoke Parseltongue on top of it all.

It seemed that Harry had no idea what he had just done. The Gryffindor only looked with brief confusion at the snake's sudden compliance to the command and then glanced at Vlad's face with a relieved smile on his face. The smile quickly vanished when Harry gradually realized that the deathly silence surrounding them was not a good one.

"What?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked aloud, bewilderment and slight fear in his tone. "The snake stopped."

An ominous muttering abruptly broke out amongst the students immediately following Harry's statement. Professor Snape stepped forward wordlessly and Vanished the snake before sending an inscrutable look at the Gryffindor.

Vlad was so fixated upon the scene that he only realized Draco had rushed off the stage after the blond had grasped his arm and was dragging him away and out of the Great Hall. They managed to wriggle their way out of the crowd, most of which were now speaking loudly and staring at Harry, who was being assaulted by his two friends. Draco remained silent during their entire trek back to the Slytherin dorms, but his grip on Vlad's arm only tightened as if he needed something to ground him. The two burst through the entrance in the dungeons and several of the older students who had decided not to the dueling club looked up curiously. Draco paid them no mind and slammed the door to their dormitory, leaving both of them in abrupt silence. The rest of the boys in their room had not made it back yet.

They remained silent for a long moment, both of them trying to absorb what had just happened.

Then, when Draco finally spoke, Vlad was genuinely surprised by what passed the blond's lips. "Are you okay?"

The young vampire gave his friend an odd look. "I think I should be asking you that."

"I – I'm okay." Draco finally looked up and let out a heavy sigh. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother, Vlad."

The vampire didn't quite know what to say to that. "At least you understood what Harry said."

"The idiot didn't even know he was speaking Parseltongue, did he?" Draco spat out bitterly. "Pretty piece of irony there. The perfect Gryffindor – a Parselmouth!"

"He couldn't help it and you know it," Vlad frowned.

The blond let out another heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes. It was, perhaps, the most vulnerable Vlad had seen Draco since the night the two of them faced the troll. "It's just…I – "

The Malfoy heir couldn't seem to finish the sentence but Vlad understood. Draco had been studying so feverishly, so determined to stand out. And now Harry Potter, who hadn't even been trying, had just bested him. Even if Draco studied for another few years, he wouldn't be able to speak as fluently as Harry.

Normally Vlad would be annoyed by his friend's attitude. After all, he doubted Harry wanted the ability to speak to snakes when it was notoriously known to be a trait for Dark wizards and descendants of Salazar Slytherin. But for once, Vlad had a brief realization that Draco had always been expected to be the best. He came from a family so accustomed to higher status and greater power. It wasn't necessarily an excuse, but Draco couldn't help how he had been raised.

"Draco, the fact that you even understood what Harry said is something nobody else could do."

"You could too," Draco muttered morosely.

"Well, obviously. We're studying together. But this doesn't mean anything. You know you're the best in the class when it comes to Potions and you are one of the top in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Draco snorted at the small effort at comfort. "Well, if there's one thing I can look forward to now is the fact that Potter won't be so popular anymore. After all – Merlin forbid – the golden boy is probably an evil wizard now that he can talk to snakes."

~0~

It did nothing for Draco's mood to see the sudden change in attitude the Slytherins expressed towards Harry. It was not blatant by any means. On the surface, they all still sneered and looked down their noses at the rest of the student population – Gryffindors in particular. But there was an underlying sense of terseness and odd wariness that underlined their actions now. Anybody who wasn't in Slytherin wouldn't notice it, but for somebody who had spent the last year and a half amongst them, Vlad could tell that Harry's newfound ability unsettled them all.

Parseltongue was not abhorred in his House. It was, on the contrary, respected. But it was a sort of respect you had for a temperamental Hippogriff powerful enough to injure you and something you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. Power ruled in Slytherin House and Vlad, who had people still looking at him incredulously whenever he performed his wandless magic, knew better than anybody else. Power too ruled the world his family lived within.

And Vlad wasn't missing all of the gossip surrounding Harry now. He had passed Ernie and a group of Hufflepuffs muttering to themselves about how the Gryffindor was most likely a Dark wizard now and a lot of people were avoiding eye contact with said wizard now. It made Vlad feel sorry for Harry, but he was almost more annoyed when he became aware that people were beginning to think  _he_  was Harry's next victim. All because they thought Harry had been encouraging the snake to attack him back in the dueling club. Honestly, were they all blind? The creature had backed down after Harry had spoken. Even if Vlad hadn't understood what the Gryffindor had said, he would have still been able to understand that Harry meant no harm.

It was like First Year when people had first heard of the foreign student who didn't need a wand to perform magic again. Pitying whispers followed him and the only thing that really kept people from approaching Vlad and offering their condolences at his sure petrification like Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey was the fact that they believed he might be able to defend himself.

Draco was taking all of it poorly. Even Pansy had taken to avoiding him early in the morning when sleepiness combined with his ever-increasing irritation made the Malfoy heir a terror to be around. Only Vlad was ever spared any mercy and that was probably only because Draco wanted to stay on good terms for the book teaching him Parseltongue.

Vlad was sitting alone with Draco in the library again for the third night in a row. They made a point of avoiding the Common Room, where the atmosphere did nothing for either of their mindsets. Here, Draco could read and practice his Parseltongue freely in their relatively secluded corner and Vlad could actually focus on his schoolwork. There was only about an hour left before curfew, but neither of them displayed any intent of moving.

Unfortunately, reality had other ideas for them.

"Are you Vlad?"

Draco visibly twitched and quickly pulled down the essay he was "writing" to cover whatever he had been reading. The young vampire also jolted in his seat and swiveled around to see Justin Finch-Fletchley standing at the end of the bookcase. Vlad's eyes narrowed; Justin was one of the Hufflepuffs who actively supported the theory that Harry was the paragon of evil. But he nodded politely and replied, "I am."

Most Hufflepuffs, like every other House at Hogwarts, weren't comfortable around Slytherins. The other students usually just avoided any prolonged interaction and while it was not necessarily uncommon for a Slytherin to be working with another student from another House, it was rare to see such a pair doing anything in their idle time together. So for Justin to openly approach Vlad and Draco like this probably meant the Hufflepuff had something important on his mind.

"Could I talk to you?"

Vlad's mouth tightened, but he nodded. "Okay. Here or…?"

"We could just move a bit, I just wanted to talk alone –"

"If you don't want to be heard," Draco interrupted with a raised eyebrow, "I'd suggest leaving the library."

Very true. You never knew who was hiding behind the many nooks and crannies the bookcases provided. Justin hadn't seemed to have thought of that, and he jerkily agreed. Vlad struggled not to heave a tired breath and instead placed down his reading material on the table before trailing the other boy out. The moment they were alone in one of Hogwart's many halls, Justin turned to Vlad.

_Kill._

Vlad blinked and shot Justin a baffled look. "What did you just say?"

"I asked you what you were planning on doing about Potter."

The young vampire frowned and shook his head. "What about him?"

_Kill._

"What?"

"I said," Justin said in an impatient voice, "I don't understand how you're so calm about it, but maybe it's because you're Pureblood. You are Pureblood right?"

The vampire remained silent, allowing the other boy to interpret it as he liked and tried to ignore the sudden insistent buzzing in the back of his head.

"Well, maybe that's why. The Heir of Slytherin doesn't attack Purebloods –"

"What on earth makes you think I believe Harry is the Heir of the Slytherin?"

Justin blinked in bewilderment for a moment. "But he's a Parselmouth. Who else could it be?"

"I don't think it's Harry," Vlad pursed his lips.

"Well, you're an idiot not to think so. I think he's after me next. I told him I was a Muggleborn a few months back, before the dueling club. And I planned on staying in the dormitories for tonight. But I thought maybe you could help me since you aren't petrified yet."

Vlad was about to tell Justin exactly how he  _wasn't_  to help foster such a silly delusion. But the voice of Nearly Headless Nick stopped him in his tracks.

"Good evening boys! Fine night isn't it? But it is nearly curfew and Professor Dumbledore asked us to make sure all students were safely in their dorms with all of this Chamber of Secrets nastiness."

_Kill._

Then Vlad's eyes widened in horror at the realization that it hadn't been a buzzing noise in the back of his mind this whole time. It had been a  _hissing._

"Close your eyes!" Vlad shouted, too late. Justin was staring wide-eyed at Nearly Headless Nick and the young vampire – in a moment he would later look back upon and conclude to be one of complete stupidity – followed the Hufflepuff's line of sight to see a pair of sickly, otherworldly yellow eyes staring back at him.

Just like Myrtle had said they would be.

…

" – my friend!"

"Step back, Mr. –"

"He's my friend!"

Vlad wanted to groan at the cacophony attacking his brain. It felt like somebody was jabbing knives into his skull, but he felt weak as if something had sucked the energy out of him.

"He just moved!" another voice exclaimed. "He's –"

"Leave him alone, Potter! It's not like you're any help!"

"Boys!"

This time, Vlad did groan aloud and the sound made the voices stop.

There was a drawn out moment of silence, almost long enough for Vlad to fall into blessed sleep. But a gentle voice quietly asked, "Mr. Dracula, can you hear me?"

Vlad wanted to tell whoever was speaking to shut the hell up and let him sleep, thank you. But when the voice asked again, he let out an exhausted breath and nodded his head.

"Will he be alright?"

"I'm not sure yet, Mr. Potter." There was a brief shuffling and then Vlad felt himself being slightly lifted with a pressure on his shoulders hauling him forward. "Mr. Dracula, if you can hear me, please open your eyes."

That was the last thing Vlad wanted to do. He recoiled at the idea that he would have to bear with the brunt of anything but the sweet darkness of unconsciousness, but he blearily obeyed in hopes of getting to sleep faster.

He winced at the onslaught of images. The soft candlelight, so often barely enough to light the halls at night, were suddenly painful and he had to close his eyes a few times and open then again to become accustomed.

Madame Pomfrey was the one holding him up, a look of professional examination already on her face, checking him over. Beyond her, Professor McGonagall was watching with worry etched into her forehead and Professor Dumbledore beside her. Looking a little further, Vlad saw Harry there and, to his pleased surprise, Draco. Both boys were craning their necks to look past the professors. Several students behind them all and Vlad noted that he was in the same place Justin had taken him out to talk. The young vampire frowned, wondering why he was on the ground and in pain only to have all of is memories come slamming him in the face a few seconds later.

That was enough to have him jolting forward and gasping aloud. "Justin! Justin – he was – we were –"

Vlad looked around frantically. The Basilisk had been here. They had seen it! Vlad was sure he had. How was he still alive? Was Justin…?

"Mr. Finch Fletchley is currently in the Hospital Wing," Madame Pomfrey said, her voice grim.

Vlad looked at the Mediwitch in horror. "He's dead?"

"Petrified," Professor McGonagall supplied. "But you, Mr. Dracula, were slightly more lucky."

"But – it was here! I – why aren't I – but –"

"You need to rest," Madame Pomfrey interrupted.

"No! I'm fine I just –"

But the healer wouldn't accept it. She interrupted him this time, threatening to stun him if he wouldn't calm down and agree to a good rest before anything else. "Your health is first and foremost," the woman finished firmly. She extracted a vial from her robes and even in his confused state, Vlad recognized it for Dreamless Sleep.

"But I really am fine! I just need a little bit." It then seemed that a particularly vicious spike of pain decided to spear him between the eyes and Vlad swayed before placing his palms on the floor to steady himself.

He heard a heavy sigh before the touch of cool glass touched his lips and the potion was being drained down his throat before he could protest.

~0~

This time, when Vlad woke up, he was alone and the pain was no longer there. He was under a plethora of blankets to keep him warm and the soft silk of his pajamas caressed his skin.

"About time."

Vlad looked up tiredly to see the Bloody Baron hovering close by.

"It's the middle of the night," the ghost supplied as a way of explanation. "Two days since your little episode with that Justin boy. He's still petrified and Nick is also temporarily out of function."

It was almost a relief to be told it all from the onset, no questions needed. Vlad nodded in thanks at the ghost and groaned as he sat up. He glanced about him only to see that the curtains had been pulled around his bed. At the foot of his bed though were quite a few baskets of sweets and "get well" gifts from a variety of students. Vlad's mouth quirked up when he saw one wrapped in elaborate silver and emerald; that was no doubt from Draco.

"The Malfoy boy dropped by quite a bit," the Baron said idly as if he had read what Vlad had been thinking. "Just sat though, mind you. Then left. Nothing like that Potter boy who came with his friends to speak to you."

The information made the small quirk of Vlad's lips turn into a full-blown smile. It made something warm settle into his chest, the idea that there were people who cared enough to come. It was something he had always wanted.

"A house elf dropped by as well. Just about fifteen minutes ago."

At that, Vlad jerked out of his small moment of happiness to focus back on the ghost. "What?"

"Left that there," the Baron said, pointing at a particular tome hidden amongst the gifts.

Vlad leaned forward and grasped the book and brushed his fingers over the title:  _Strigoi._  So Dobby had followed through his promise. The young vampire sighed heavily and placed the book into his lap. There was time to read; he didn't feel like now was not the time. Not after what had just happened.

"Baron, I…I saw it. The Basilisk."

The ghost did not seem surprised in the least. "Yes."

"I looked at it in the eyes."

"To be accurate, you looked at it through Sir Nicholas's head. That was probably what saved you from certain death, child."

Vlad hesitated. "Is that why…?"

"Sir Nicholas is inanimate at this time? Probably. We've never quite had anything like this happen. Perhaps it was because the gaze hit him head on, but since he is already dead, that rather defeated the purpose, didn't it? It is also why Justin is only petrified and not dead as well. You, too."

"But I'm not petrified."

The ghost gave him an exasperated look. "And how many times have I told you that you are not as human as you believe yourself to be?"

Vlad grit his teeth and looked away. He didn't need this right now. He didn't need to know that he had survived this because he was a  _monster_  too. "How am I going to explain this?" he asked instead in an effort to brush over the Baron's last comment.

"That is hardly my problem. I am only here because I wanted to make sure my hobby is still intact."

Vlad really should have known. "You still owe me an explanation, by the way. About your little claim on me. How much longer are you going to wait?"

"All in good time, little leech."

* * *

**Sorry about the uninspiring title! I couldn't quite come up with anything this time.**

**Little thing, but Draco waited for the count of three to complete during his demonstration duel with Harry. In the books he didn't, and this shows what little progress he made with Vlad as an influence. He doesn't necessarily feel the need to bend the rules or take every single advantage to gain something over Harry anymore. He is still frustrated obviously, but he is taking the less underhanded method of doing it now.**

**Vlad is not human. That is why he was able to wake up and not remain petrified. He is in a state between undead and living and he saw the Basilisk's eyes through Nearly Headless Nick's head. Nick's head lessened the impact already, but with his non-human status he wasn't going to be as affected as a living person.**

**Strigoi = the unsettled dead come back to life**

**Till next time!**


	30. The Black Book

**Chapter 30: The Black Book**

Madame Pomfrey, Vlad had learned, was a complete harpy when it came to her patients' health. Not long after the Bloody Baron had left Vlad to contemplate what had become of his life, the healer had appeared as if she had somehow sensed his lack of unconsciousness. Upon seeing his sitting form with a thick book in his lap, the woman had quickly ordered Vlad back on his back and had placed Dobby's delivery back with the rest of the get-well gifts. The young vampire had, of course, attempted to throw off Madame Pomfrey's insistences, but only succeeded in having yet another potion shoved down his throat in order to "catch up on his much needed rest."

His stay at the Hospital Wing was a weeklong affair. And while Vlad was convinced he was ready to leave by the second day, the healer had persisted in keeping him strapped to the bed. Part of it was most likely her mediwitch training, but there was also another part that made the young vampire think there was a bit more to it than she claimed.

Several times, she had taken magical readings of his health status when it was clear he was not suffering from any aftereffects. A few other times, he was ordered to take some potions he was convinced had nothing to do with healing him. Vlad was reluctant to comply, but the woman hardly seemed the type to poison or harm him after all of her efforts to ensure his health and it was not long before he realized she was trying to figure out how he had not been petrified like everybody else who had been attacked.

The realization made him a touch more compliant than he had been before. While he balked at the idea of being a test subject, Vlad also knew that should the witch gain anything, she would be that much closer to reanimating the other patients before the Mandrakes were needed. But as the days wore on, his patience began to fray and boredom soon became a problem.

Sometimes visitors relieved him of that problem. Harry made a point of coming in nearly every day and although one curious Hermione Granger and a reluctant Ron Weasley oftentimes accompanied him, Vlad found the Gryffindors' efforts comforting. They rarely touched the subject of what had gotten him in the Hospital Wing, but a few times Ron let curiosity get the better of him and the other two had to nudge him to shut him up.

Vlad wouldn't have been particularly against speaking about it had he had an actual explanation for what had happened. He wasn't "traumatized" as Hermione tended to describe it, but rather lost for words to explain why he had only been knocked unconscious for a few minutes. The only other thing to suffer other than his temporary blackout had been his magic, which had quickly recovered a mere day after the incident. Vlad was sure just as many people were curious, but he could hardly say it was thanks to his vampire heritage.

So he kept tight-lipped and only offered an "it was probably luck" or an "I don't remember exactly" for any questions that came his way.

It was a little harder to do that when Draco came to visit. The Malfoy heir was the only one of the Slytherins to come and even then, about a mere two times the entire week Vlad was bedridden. It didn't bother the young vampire that Draco came so sparsely. In fact, he had been surprised the blond came at all. Showing concern for him during the actual incident, consumed in the moment, was one thing. To actively decide to take time out of his schedule and shoulder whatever the others within their House thought of him for being sentimental enough to visit, was another.

The first time Draco came, he sat quietly beside Vlad's bed and avoided eye contact, sitting rigid in his seat. Vlad had not pushed it. They remained in such silence for the entirety of the visit.

The second time Draco came, the blond finally spoke.

"You looked dead."

That made Vlad look up from the class notes some of the professors had dropped off. "What?"

Draco's voice was eerily monotonous. "You looked dead. Finch-Fletchley was at least frozen. But you…you were just  _there_."

"I'm not dead, Draco."

"I know," the blond snapped, his voice suddenly harshly guttural. "I know that. Now. But I thought – well. The Hufflepuff at least had some color left in him. But you were white and…I don't know…limp?" Draco let out a frustrated huff and leaned back in his chair. "Just don't do that again."

Vlad gave his friend an exasperated look. "You think I went looking to be petrified?"

"You never know with you." Draco's voice was still angry – at what, Vlad didn't know – but at least there was a small smile on his face. "I hope they catch whatever is doing this."

"Oh, and here I thought you were just as giddy as the rest of our House to see 'Mudbloods' put in their place."

The blond winced. "Things are a little different when this thing actually attacks people who aren't Mudbloods."

~0~

It was almost ironic when Vlad found that staying in the Hospital Wing was preferable to being discharged. If he thought people were annoying before, after the Dueling Club incident, they were even more so now. More students than he could count made sure to walk up to him to offer help, to give congratulations for not keeling over, and to ask what had happened exactly. Vlad was less than willing to accept or answer any of them and had taken to giving anybody who approached him a warning glare.

They eventually got the hint. Especially after he had "accidentally" Stunned a Ravenclaw who had asked what it felt like to die.

And as if the constant pestering and schoolwork to catch up on weren't enough to ruin Vlad's mood, receiving a letter from his father explaining that Renfield had ruined one particular experiment more than he usually did completely soured his disposition. It would be best, the Count had articulated, if Vlad remained at school for the winter break instead.

The only thing mollifying the entire experience was the fact that the upcoming break meant almost all of the students would be gone and all of the Slytherin students, with wealthy families without experimenting servants waiting for them, would give Vlad some privacy. When Draco declared he would be staying at school for the break as well, the young vampire felt a touch of annoyance that he would not be able to read  _Strigoi_  as freely as he had been planning, but he had also felt something akin to what Harry must have felt last year when Ron had chosen to stay as well.

Vlad wondered if Draco saw the parallelism as well.

So when the last of their classes completed for the year and the Hogwarts Express departed from the station, Vlad breathed a sigh of relief.

~0~

Christmas morning dawned a touch earlier than the young vampire would have liked. What with Draco tossing his gift at his face only for it to land on Nox, eliciting a feline shriek and a yelping friend as he tried to avoid claws.

It made Vlad smile.

"Come on!" Draco insisted, always a bit less reserved when holidays came around. "You can't just lie in bed all day."

Vlad threw a pillow at the blond and followed him out of their dorms still in his pajamas. They threw themselves at their gifts with the voracity of true twelve-year-olds and fell to seeing who could open theirs faster. Without the rest of the Slytherin House present (with the exceptions of the still sleeping Crabbe and Goyle – Draco's loyal followers until the end) and nobody to watch them, the two enjoyed the fresh morning with a freedom neither had felt a long time. It seemed such a waste to remain wary and cautious when glittering paper of greens, reds, and silvers tempted them.

Draco received a plethora of sweets from friends of his family and a variety of finely spun clothing from his parents. From the other Slytherins, he found gifts ranging from books detailing revenge tactics to Quidditch kits. His pile of presents was considerable to say the least and Vlad figured it was thanks to his family's prestige.

The young vampire had fewer, but he was no less happy for them. His father and Ingrid had sent a plate of…something Renfield had no doubt cooked with a few books on vampire magic on the side (something he hastily shoved to the side before Draco could see). Harry had sent a gift this year and Vlad found the rather expensive eagle-feather quill a fitting gift considering how quickly he normally worked through his writing utensils. He handled the little box Draco had thrown at him earlier that morning with care, but when he saw the necklace inside, he turned to give his friend a confused look.

"Uh…Draco?"

"It had several charms on it," the blond explained as he rummaged through his packages. "It's spelled to warm up whenever there's danger close."

That was surprisingly thoughtful of the Malfoy heir. "Thank you," Vlad said sincerely.

"Can't exactly say the same about your gift," Draco winced, holding up a horrendously neon green scarf. "Really? It looks like something you would wear."

Vlad didn't have the heart to tell him it was intended to protect him from any vampire lunge at his throat. The thing had been floundering in his family's castle and Vlad had always wondered why they had it in the first place until his father mentioned he had once gone through a Slayer-eating phase. It didn't look like much and Vlad just shrugged, a little indignant considering he still liked bright colors.

Draco rolled his eyes and threw the piece of clothing over his neck. "Just for today."

After their gifts were properly decimated, they spent the rest of the day wandering the castle grounds. They made sure to care for their owls, offering small treats for the holiday and had their fair share of fun with the snow even if the cold did render them freezing by the end of it. Both Slytherins only bumped into a few of the other students staying during the day and spent the rest of the time left to them before dinner playing a variety of games in their Common Room. Vlad was surprised to find that Draco was a decent chess player that day and even more surprised when he found out that he was rather adept at Exploding Snap.

By the time it was dinner, the two were at a pleasant ease and satisfied with a day free of responsibility. The Great Hall, although always a sight to see, looked especially magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was also falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. And although both of those combined were enough to dampen Draco's mood a bit, he found renewed pleasure in making loud, snide remarks about the new sweaters the Weasley family was sporting. Vlad only sighed and struggled not to laugh when Harry, also dressed in an unflattering sweater of his own, replied in kind abut Draco's new scarf.

The banter between the two tables eventually died down though and the three infamous Gryffindors left a little early, giving Draco no more motivation to continue his jeering. The other students eventually drifted out as well, but Vlad insisted that they stay a bit. He had found the hot chocolate to be one of his favorite things about the holiday and he didn't quite want to leave it behind yet.

By the time they decided to head back to their dormitories, Vlad was sleepily full and Draco nearly just as heavy-lidded. They were just turning a corner within the empty halls when they caught sight of two rather heavyset boys being reprimanded by Ron's notorious Prefect brother, Percy.

"There you two are," Draco interrupted. As irritated as the blond seemed now, he was hardly going to allow two Slytherins be punished. They were a united House, if nothing else. "Goyle, Crabbe. We've been searching for you. Have you been pigging out in the Great Hall again?"

The two Slytherins jerked around at Draco's voice, looks of slight shock and bewilderment on their faces. The Prefect glanced up at the same time and his freckled face soured immediately. "Do you know these two?"

"They're in our House, Weasley. Of course we know them," the Malfoy heir retorted. Vlad gave the blond an incredulous glance. Percy might have been a pompous prat, but he was a Prefect and the young vampire would like to spend his Christmas free of any detentions. Draco seemed to pay no heed, however. "Too dense to figure that out yourself?"

Percy's eyes narrowed and he huffed, "Excuse me, I am–"

"A Prefect, we all know," Draco drawled. "Now that we've established that can we all move on now?"

It seemed the elder Weasley didn't quite know what to do with the blatant disregard for the golden badge on his robes. As Draco brushed past with Vlad at his heels and gesturing for the other two Slytherins to follow, Percy seemed torn between a desire to begin another lecture and a confusion furrowing his brow. His mouth was open but frowning as he watched them turn the corner further into the dungeons.

The moment they were out of earshot, Draco snapped, "Don't you two know better than to get caught? I thought you guys had learned by now; it's been months since your last detention."

Vlad's mouth quirked a little in laughter at the blond's reaction. For all of Draco's haughty disregard and contempt for both Goyle and Crabbe, he did not necessarily despise them. It was rather difficult for him to despise people who wanted to follow his every step no matter how annoying it got. The young vampire figured that since the three had known each other for a long time, Draco probably had a very small amount of affection for them – a little bit like a person who was stuck two stray dogs.

"What were you doing out anyway?" Draco continued, oblivious to Vlad's amusement.

"Uh, we – er –" Crabbe stumbled.

Goyle seemed to pick on a little faster. "We were in the library."

At that, Draco stopped in the middle of the hall to turn and stare. "The library? You two?"

"You hate the library," Vlad added. Of that, he was sure. He had spent enough nights there to know both Goyle and Crabbe never stepped foot inside unless absolutely necessary. "And you still have a week left to finish assignments."

"I didn't know they could read," Draco muttered.

Crabbe fumbled a bit with his robes. "Wanted…somewhere different to eat?"

Vlad was a little skeptical. To go to the library of all places for a change of scenery was odd, especially for those two. They were not the type to involve themselves in anything overexerting and as far he knew, where the two ate had hardly ever mattered before.

Draco seemed to accept the reply though, shrugging it off as another of their weird peculiarities. He turned back and strode towards the Common Room entrance, only a few feet away. It seemed to be nothing more than a part of the wall and very difficult to find unless you knew what you were looking for. There were many expanses of stone like this one in the dungeons and it usually took many of their First Years – Draco and Vlad included – several weeks to finally remember exactly where the entrance was.

"Runespoor," Draco said and immediately, a portion of the stone seemed to sink in upon itself to form the impression of a door and swung open.

"Come on," Vlad said, frowning at the two large boys staring a little astounded at the entrance. "You've seen this a hundred times before. What's wrong with you two?"

That seemed to snap them out of what little trance they had entered and they swiftly trundled in behind Draco with Vlad picking up the rear. As all of them stepped inside, the door swung shut behind them and melted back into the stone array. It was then pitch black for the briefest of moments before small, green-lit werelights softly lit the tunnel passageway into the Common Room.

Draco quickly settled himself on one of the couches closer to the main fireplace, reaching for one of his gifts stuffed with sweets and small games. Vlad joined him, but reached for a book he had left earlier on the small table in front. Normally, he would have put it away, but he knew that there were only four of them at school for the break and he doubted any of them were interested in reading one of their many Charms books.

It wasn't until both of them were comfortably settled and busy with their respective interests that they realized Crabbe and Goyle were still standing in the middle of the room.

"Aren't you two going to sit?" Vlad asked a little quizzically. "Or were you two going back to the dorm…?"

"Oh! No," Goyle quickly replied. "We were just – uh – looking around."

"This is our Common Room what's there to see?" Draco snapped, his tone bored.

"Just…thinking then."

"You think?"

"Draco!" Vlad exclaimed. "It's Christmas; you can give them a break. It's not really their fault Percy happened to be wandering around." The young vampire hardly thought much of their intelligence either, but a small part of him pitied them for it. And sometimes he felt charitable enough to act on that pity. He turned to them and gestured towards the other seats nearby. "Sit, then. What were you thinking about?"

Goyle awkwardly settled himself into an armchair and Crabbe uncomfortably followed suit. They glanced around, their eyes darting about with a sort of curious light Vlad was fairly sure had not existed there before.

Crabbe was the first to answer Vlad's question. "So what do you think about the Chamber of Secrets?"

The young vampire almost regretted asking now. Most conversations he had nowadays with anybody other than Draco seemed to descend into this topic, especially after his incident. "Nothing much. I try not to think about it," Vlad replied tersely.

Draco seemed to pick up on the discomfort in his voice because he looked up to growl out irritably, "Give it a rest already."

"You don't want to talk about it?" Goyle prodded – odd coming from him. He was normally the slightly smarter of the two, knowing when to stop.

"No, I don't," Vlad snapped, his charitable mood far gone now. "We don't. What's there to say? It's not like we really know anything." Which was a lie, but Crabbe and Goyle didn't need to know that.

"But you have to," Goyle insisted with a touch of frustration in his voice. "You're – we're – Slytherins!"

Draco raised his eyebrows incredulously. "What are you talking about, you idiot? You know just as much as we do – which is pretty sad to say, actually." He grit his teeth in anger. "Father won't tell me anything really. Says I've been slacking recently."

"But –" Goyle began to say, but he stopped abruptly as Crabbe suddenly grabbed his arm. "But – uh – I think we forgot something in the library. We should really go and find it."

Vlad moved before they could get as far as halfway off their seats. His eyes had narrowed upon the small tuft of black, short hair lengthening into a distinctly brighter color on Crabbe's head and immediately knew that something was wrong. Draco was not far behind. It seemed that the both of them had felt something off since the meeting with Percy and the blond was now on top of Goyle as well.

"Who are you?" Vlad demanded as he struggled to hold down the struggling form beneath him. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " Draco also spat out barely a second later, stepping back from the now frozen Goyle with his wand gripped tightly in his right hand. "Ugh, Polyjuice Potion."

They waited for the last of the transformation to complete, poised to cast another spell should the two forms begin moving again. But when the last of the potion wore off, no other struggle seemed forthcoming and what Vlad and Draco saw made them both want to gape in astonishment.

"Potter! Weasley!" the Malfoy heir immediately hissed furiously. His eyes were wide and dark.

Vlad could almost taste the curse on Draco's tongue and he quickly intervened, stepping forward and casting  _Incarcerous_ before undoing the petrifying spell on both of the Gryffindors. "What are you two doing down here?"

Oh, he had a billion more questions but right now he just wanted to find some way to stop any damaging conflict from happening. Vlad was just as angry as Draco – what right did they have sneaking into another House's Common Room like this? – but he knew Harry and Harry wouldn't have done this without a reason.

"We don't have to answer them," Ron quickly said, looking at Harry. "They can't keep us down here forever. We're at school."

"Actually, I think you  _do_ need to answer our questions," Draco snarled. "This is  _our_  Common Room. This is Slytherin's territory! What makes you think you can just come down here and do as you like? Bigheaded prats, all of you! Just because you're Gryffindor and think this is all a great  _game_."

No, they wouldn't understand. Things were different. To them, their Common Room was just that: a room for people to commune and settle for a little bit. A meeting place for people of the same House. But for the Slytherins, it was more than that. For a House that was constantly cursed upon and avoided, their Common Room was a sanctuary where nobody but their own could stay and that sense of privacy and security had been horribly breached. Vlad was fairly sure that if the entire Slytherin House had been present, things would be a lot uglier.

"Just tell us why you're down here," Vlad said fiercely, glaring at Harry in particular. He had expected more from him especially. "And maybe we won't leave you guys in front of Professor Snape's door."

"Are you threatening us?" Ron asked incredulously.

"We came down here to learn more about the Chamber of Secrets."

"Harry!"

"Let Saint Potter talk," Draco snapped. "Go on, Golden Boy. Try and talk your way out of this one."

Harry ignored Draco, his emerald eyes fixed upon Vlad's. There was a measure of guilt there and it made the young vampire's anger abate just a little. When Harry began to talk, it was slow and almost apologetic. "We just had to know. With people being petrified and everybody being scared about what is happening, we needed to get to the bottom of this."

"You're so full of yourself –"

"Draco," Vlad cut in flatly. The blond seethed at the interruption but remained silent as Harry continued.

"We thought Malfoy might know. So…here we are."

There were so many things wrong with that Vlad wanted to groan aloud. "Why on earth did you think Draco would know any more about the Chamber of Secrets than you?"

Ron's face reddened in anger at the question. "He's always prattling on about how the Muggleborns are going to get it and how  _great_  Purebloods are going to have it when everybody is dead."

"I didn't say that!" The Malfoy heir cried furiously.

"Well you were certainly declaring it when Mrs. Norris was dangling on the wall!"

"Maybe I did that once," Draco relented, his fists clenched. "But if you think I find it  _funny_  that there's a crazy monster loose you're a bigger idiot than I thought, Weasley."

Vlad decided it would be best to bring to conversation back to the main point. "But why are you searching like this? Why you two?"

"More like three of them," Draco snorted. "No way either of them are smart enough to brew a Polyjuice Potion. Granger probably did all of the work there."

"The teachers aren't doing anything," Harry frowned, choosing to ignore Draco's jab. "Well, they are. But nothing is working and what if something else happens? And I've been hearing –"

At that, Harry abruptly stopped.

"Hearing what, Harry?" Vlad gently prodded. He was beginning to understand now. The three Gryffindors felt this strange need to fix the school's problem, especially after what had happened last year with the Philosopher's Stone. It might not have been obvious, but their behavior had been – for lack of better words – praised in an indirect way. To them, it was a sort of duty to involve themselves and the touch of adventure that accompanied it hardly did anything but spur them on. It wasn't right that they did this, wasn't right that they got themselves tangled in things they didn't have to. But nobody had told them otherwise and for them, this was all part of the investigation.

"Nothing."

"And you think I'm going to believe that."

Vlad's eyes met emerald ones and they stared at each other for a few moments before Harry looked away and let out a heavy breath. "I'm hearing voices right before the attacks."

"Oh great and now he's delusional too," Draco muttered.

The young vampire shot the blond a look before turning back to Harry, a sense of dread slowly creeping into his chest. "Voices?"

"In the walls I think," Harry replied a little surer of himself this time. Seeing Vlad's willingness to listen urged him on.

Oh, bats. At this rate, surely the Gryffindors would catch on soon. What else could Harry be hearing but the Basilisk? Vlad knew he had heard it before it had attacked when he had been with Justin. And while the young vampire didn't want Harry to remain ignorant of the true danger, he also didn't want the Boy-Who-Lived to know at the same time. If he did, Vlad had no doubt Harry would try and do something about it. Experience told so.

So Vlad did the only thing he could. He took a deep breath and took the plunge. "Okay we won't turn you guys in and we won't stop your investigation either. But from now on, you're going to let us in on what you find and what you plan on doing."

There were simultaneous exclamations of "what" and "you're joking right" from both Draco and Ron. The blond Slytherin was staring at his dorm mate with shock and Ron was looking no better with his mouth agape. Harry looked just as startled, but had only widened his eyes in reaction to the sudden proposal.

"We don't have to tell you anything," Ron retorted. "You're probably just going to take all the credit or –"

"Don't be daft, Weasley." Draco seemed to have gathered his composure and after having thought it over beyond his initial horror, apparently thought it best to follow Vlad's lead. "We just want to make sure we know whatever we can so we don't end up petrified or worse."

Harry was biting his lip. "That's it?" Vlad nodded as Ron insisted that there was no way there wasn't  _something_  suspicious. But Harry had already made his mind up and he was firm when he finally agreed. "Okay. But Vlad, I'm holding you to your word. You won't do anything to about what happened tonight?"

The only reply the young vampire gave was a snap of his fingers for the conjured ropes to disappear. Ron bolted the moment they vanished, but Harry stood slowly, searching for anything indicating trickery in either of the Slytherins' expressions before following.

Vlad and Draco were quiet for a moment after the Slytherin Common Room entrance had closed to indicate they were alone. Then with a tired groan Draco fell back on to the couch.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Quite frankly, Vlad wasn't so sure he did.

~0~

A week later and there was still no word from either of the Gryffindors they had caught over Christmas and Hermione Granger was still in the hospital for a strange condition of being part cat.

"Serves her right," Draco had muttered angrily.

But as the days swept by, Vlad found himself immersed in the ever-growing pile of classwork and extra reading he had to do and had little time to question what the trio might be up to. Draco too eventually slunk back to his Parseltongue studies and it wasn't until one late afternoon Vlad found reason to worry again.

He was studying out in the Quidditch stands, his books strewn about him in a sort of disarray as the Slytherin team practiced above. Very rarely did anybody attend these practices; the captain, Marcus Flint, made sure of that. It was a tactic of his to ensure their strategies remained a secret. But he seemed to make an exception for Vlad, taking as little interest in the self-styled bookworm as the younger Slytherin did of the sport the captain practiced.

As the allotted time for the team came to a close though, Vlad packed his things and trailed after the sweaty cohort off the field, turning towards the castle while the rest veered towards the changing rooms. He preferred not to hover when his Housemates completed that particular part of their rituals. So more often than not, he ran into the next team coming down for practice.

This time, it was the Gryffindor who came striding down with their gear and a few smiles to greet him with. After his incident with Ron and the slugs, it seemed that at least this group of the opposing House had taken a liking to the young vampire.

"How are you doing, little snake?" Fred – or was it George? – grinned, jumping up to wave a broom. "Still busy keeping tally on how badly your team is doing?"

"Adrian has improved a lot," Vlad replied with a slight smirk of his own. "Hope your Keeper is up to it."

Fred laughed. "Easy."

"Peasy," George chortled.

The twins never failed to make Vlad smile a bit, but today, his attention was dragged to Harry. It was the first time he had come so close to the other boy since their confrontation in the Slytherin Common Room and he wondered if anything would change between them. He expected a variety of reactions ranging from cold indifference to the regularity of their normal if slightly stiff interactions. But this time, the Gryffindor seemed distracted with something in his hands.

"How are you?" Vlad asked softly as they passed each other.

Harry jumped, startled at the question and turned to look at the young vampire. "Huh? Oh, um – nothing really has changed."

"What's that distracting you?"

The Gryffindor shoved the object into his bag. "It's nothing really. Just something I picked up that Moaning Myrtle dropped." Harry smoothed out his expression with an unfocused smile. "See you later, Vlad."

It was with a struggle that the young vampire managed to smile back, but as soon as the Gryffindor team was up and flying, the young vampire made a beeline for the girl's bathroom on the first floor. His heart was suddenly racing and he hoped that what he had seen wasn't what he thought it to be. Just outside the bathroom, he stopped and took a deep breath, calming himself and straightening out his robes. With Myrtle, he could not afford to look anything but calm and collected. Not if he wanted to get what he wanted each time.

The door opened easily, the slight current of flooding water already helping the movement. The restroom was as deserted as ever and the stalls were painted an orange-red as the sun began to set outside the glass windows. "Myrtle?"

She came floating out of the ceiling a moment later. "Oh, if it isn't my little secret," she cooed.

The few times he had come to ensure his alliance of sorts with Myrtle, Vlad had found she enjoyed calling him that particular moniker. It seemed she found the idea of having her own "secret" fascinating. It was fine with the young vampire so long as it kept their interactions quiet.

"Hello Myrtle," he smiled smoothly, reaching out to hold on to her sleeve and pull her further down to his eyelevel.

That was another thing he had found out since discovering his ability to see in the dark: he could touch ghosts if he focused enough, if he wanted to. He had yet to think about the ramifications of it and had avoided utilizing it in front of the Baron. Vlad only did this to earn Myrtle affections.

The ghost giggled. "What is it this time, Vlad?" she breathed. "Want to talk a bit more about me this time?"

"I actually have to ask you another favor. Is that alright?"

"Depends on the favor."

"Did Harry Potter come and pick something up today? A book?"

Myrtle frowned a little, trying to remember. Then her face broke out in recognition and she beamed. "Oh, yes. Harry Potter. He's sweet. Almost as sweet as you. I think you might have competition."

That wouldn't do. Harry was the worst person Myrtle could favor over him right now. Out of all the people Vlad needed to keep this away from, Harry was probably at the top of the list beside Draco. "But you still like me better, don't you?"

"Of course. He isn't as interesting as you. Yet."

"What did he do with the book, Myrtle?"

The ghost seemed a little put out that he had changed the topic back, but she answered dutifully. "He took it, of course. After he didn't even offer me help. Somebody threw the book through my head, mind you.  _Through_  my head. As if they didn't care that I was in such deep thought. I was thinking about death, you know."

"I'm very sorry, Myrtle," Vlad soothed. "That must have been horrible. Did they say anything else after? Help you at all?"

"All he did was pick it up. The redheaded boy with him mentioned something about it belonging to somebody from the trophy room."

The young vampire furrowed his brow at that. "The trophy room? But nobody has earned anything worth putting in there for over fifty years."

"Exactly," the ghost laughed, leaning further in within inches of Vlad's face. "It's an old book, I suppose. Useless though. There was nothing in it."

"Nothing?" the young vampire repeated breathlessly, abruptly lightheaded.

"It was so boring. And you will be too if you don't talk about something more interesting."

Vlad suddenly felt an unbidden urge to laugh himself and couldn't stop it from escaping his lips a little. Good garlic did all the forces in the world just hand the worst of things to Harry? What were the chances that he, of all the students, would stumble across  _the_  book.

Myrtle seemed startled by the abrupt chuckle and the frozen expression on her face made Vlad feel irrationally bold. Drunk on the complete absurdity of the situation, his life, and just everything that had been happening to him lately with the Chamber and the Stone and the sheer  _pressure_ of it all, the young vampire closed the distance between them to place his lips on her cold, cold cheek.

He needed to feel like he was in control of something for once. That this time, he wasn't the one adjusting and constantly trying to change to meet what craziness was dumped on him next. That he wasn't tied to any one action, any one destiny – let it be his current dilemma with the Basilisk or his doom to vampirism.

And if it meant giving a ghost a kiss just to see even greater surprise overtake her to feel like he was the one deciding things, then so be it.

He pulled away with a soft "thank you" before he left the bathroom. This time, he didn't have room to feel the typical guilt he normally felt after his sessions with Myrtle. No, this time, all that was on his mind was how he was going to contact Dobby to let the elf know he had found it.

He didn't know how. It could just be one of hundreds of black books, Darkness knew there were more than enough in the world. But something told him otherwise. Something told him that this was it.

He had found the book Dobby had warned him about.

* * *

**Did you catch what I changed about the plot? Haha, Draco didn't reveal as much this time around obviously with Harry and Ron there.**

**In terms of Vlad's interaction with Myrtle, the only reason why he seems markedly out of character there is because he is finally and truly ALONE. Like in other cases he's constantly having to worry about opinions or his moral compass. He DOES feel guilty afterward, but while he's there he's alone with a ghost who is just as lonely and unlikely to be believed for anything she says. So it's one of the few times he's free to kinda let out his stress you know so we see more of his naturally manipulative side coming out. It's there all the time, we just don't see it as obviously.**

**Till next time!**


	31. T.M. Riddle

**Chapter 31: T.M. Riddle**

With everything that had been happening, Vlad had been too distracted to truly remember the horror of embarrassment that was Gilderoy Lockhart. But as February came and the young vampire found himself stepping into a Great Hall decorated to the very corners with bright, garish pink, he had an unsettling flash of dread that usually accompanied the flouncy professor's ideas.

"Oh, Merlin," Draco sighed in frustration. "Are the dwarves completely necessary?"

Apparently they were. And the fact that they were dressed in light pink tutus or some variation of diaper to mimic the cupid image did little to make them any more attractive than small, stubby creatures with skin hanging in heavy wrinkles.

Breakfast was not a pretty affair.

Vlad tried his best to ignore the little creatures scurrying around on their short legs, delivering one love message after another. He was unsurprised to find many of his Pureblood roommates showered with their fair share of sonnets and actually a little embarrassed for Draco when he turned out bombarded with the dwarves. To his immense relief, Vlad was left alone in peace to finish what he could of his breakfast. It was a little difficult though, with Draco's worsening mood at the ridicule he was getting for his many letters and the sickeningly sweet prose that accompanied each one.

Finally, the young vampire thought it best to drag his friend away before he could turn any redder and they exited the Great Hall as swiftly as they could while dodging any incoming "cupids."

When they finally made it into one of the branching staircases, the blond Malfoy heir let out an angry breath and ran a hand across his face. "Why me?"

"Because every girl wants your money," Vlad replied quickly and curtly. At Draco's incredulous look, the vampire shrugged. "What? It's true, isn't it?"

That did little to improve Draco's mood and Vlad immediately regretted it when they arrived at the top of the stairs to see Harry in the midst of escaping a dwarf in the crowd. When the creature actually managed to grasp the Gryffindor's ankle and drag him down, the young vampire barely had time to register the predatory look in Draco's eyes before the blond drawled, "What do we have here?"

Harry didn't bother to look up, but the rate at which he was desperately grabbing the books and spilled ink that had fallen from his bags sped up at the sound of Draco's voice. When it became obvious that he would not finish in time, the Gryffindor stood up and tried to escape only to have the dwarf practically tackle him back to the ground.

"Right," the thing said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing valentine: His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, his hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

Everybody who had been around had stopped at this point and were laughing enough to give Vlad secondhand embarrassment. Harry's cheeks were flushed a dark crimson and he threw the dwarf an angry glare. He was too occupied to notice that Draco was reaching down to grasp something that had fallen out of his bag.

But Vlad didn't miss it and just before the blond was about to open his mouth and comment – it was too obviously a diary of some sort – the vampire leaned forward and whispered, "If you really want to get one up on Harry, then don't you think it would be better to keep it and read it?"

The suggestion seemed to stun Draco on the spot for a brief second before he slipped the book into his robes and nodded. "I thought you were going to help him again," the blond confessed. "You always do."

That sent a slight pang of guilt through Vlad's chest as they slipped away from the scene. He had never really thought about that. Most of the time, he was worried about how Harry was doing for the simple reason that he was constantly in trouble. Draco was usually a model student in class and he fit well into his House. And more often than not, the only time Vlad really had to worry about the Malfoy heir was when he was around Harry and even then, he was worried  _because_  of and not  _for_  the blond.

Then again, Vlad needn't have worried. Because Draco only continued on to ask, "Which makes me wonder: what do  _you_  want this book for?"

"What makes you think I want it?"

Draco rolled his eyes and smiled. "I can read you a little better than that. And I'm not stupid. Since when would you suggest something like taking a diary?" The blond tossed the book up in the air before catching it and handing it over. "Just take it. You wouldn't ask for it unless you knew it wouldn't hurt Potter and honestly, you're not good enough to catch me off guard yet."

Well, if only he knew. But Vlad decided it would be best to just take the book. Draco wasn't without his ulterior motives either and as much as the blond was a friend, he had still been raised as a Malfoy and such thinking was probably innate by now. The young vampire wasn't silly enough to believe that Draco was giving him this book for nothing.

~0~

Vlad made sure he was alone later that evening as he clutched the book to his chest. He had the Invisibility Cloak draped around him for good measure and had even given Draco  _The Snake's Tongue_  to keep him occupied.

The young vampire had taken a few minutes after dinner to scan the pages of the book. But it had been empty and seemingly harmless. For a long moment, Vlad had hesitated and considered the option that for once his gut was being ridiculous and that this was really just a clear diary. Then he had decided that it couldn't hurt to try it first. Showing the elf and making sure it was indeed not what it was looking for was safest.

The only problem was, Vlad wasn't quite sure how to contact Dobby. The creature hadn't specified any method of doing so and the young vampire was reluctant to give the book to Nox to deliver, no matter how much he trusted his familiar. He had no doubt the feline would get it to the elf, but Vlad feared the Malfoys might catch Nox. He didn't know what precautions and wards operated to protect the Malfoy manor and he wasn't willing to take the risk.

The young vampire quietly slid into one of the many small closets dotting the castle, easing the door shut behind him. He would have preferred to utilize a classroom, but there was no guarantee that nobody would walk in on him. There was still a risk of being caught while in a closet as well, but only Filch or the occasional couple would find themselves in these spider-infested crannies voluntarily.

Vlad kept the Invisibility Cloak on as he cleared his throat and snapped his fingers to create a single, small ball of light. He felt ridiculous for trying this, but it was the only method he could imagine. Licking his lips, he quietly and very cautiously whispered, "Dobby."

For a moment, it seemed that the young vampire had gone through an awful lot of trouble simply to speak to himself in a closet. But then there was a small pop and Vlad found himself facing the Malfoy household's elf once again.

He quickly pulled back the hood of the cloak hiding him from view and made a shushing motion with a finger. Once he knew the elf had gotten the message, he extracted the book and held it out.

"This is it, sir," the elf murmured with excitement, staring at the book. "Mister has found it!"

"Okay, okay," Vlad nodded hastily. "But do you think you could keep it down? I'm pretty sure I've gone past my curfew and I just need to make sure that you will stop bothering me and Harry now." He still had no idea what on earth was so important about that book, but he ruthlessly crushed whatever curious part of him wanted to know and relished in the pure relief that now accompanied a job done.

"Dobby keeps his promises, sir," the creature agreed. It moved forward and held its hands out for the blank object in Vlad's hands. "Dobby –" And then what good fortune Vlad seemed to have been having with this entire exchange seemed to have run out. Whatever warning the young vampire had was only in the slight widening of the elf's eyes and the way it lunged forward in a desperate attempt to grasp the book. Dobby was only a hairsbreadth away – but it was a hairsbreadth too far. In the next moment, the elf was gone and Vlad was left alone with the diary still hanging limply in his hands.

~0~

"It is good to see you, old friend," Lucius was saying. "I must thank you for agreeing to meet me, particularly with the school year keeping you busy."

Severus had never been one for trivial socializing. Not even with the people he was comfortable with did he actively choose to spend time with unless it was of the upmost importance. He had always believed in utilizing his time as effectively as possible and wasting it in the small events many Purebloods enjoyed hosting was not something he considered effective. Now that he was a professor at Hogwarts, he was even less inclined to do so even when some events allowed for information gathering. But only twice in his entire lifetime had he ever received a message from Lucius himself asking for some of his time: once, when they had both been young and Voldemort had been less than forgiving during one of his punishments, and another, when Narcissa had gone into labor.

"I wouldn't ignore a message from you," the Potions Master smoothly replied. He settled, rather stiffly, into one of the armchairs open and quietly accepted the cup of tea a house elf had moved to offer. "What is it that you wished to discuss with me?"

Lucius chuckled. "Always to the point, hm? It  _has_  been too long." The Malfoy patriarch placed his own cup down before leaning forward a little bit, his hands intertwining in thought. "I wished to ask you about Draco."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You asked me to come visit to speak about Draco?" They both knew very well that such a topic could be easily broached through letters. It wasn't so pressing a topic that they would have to meet.

"You know I would not ask if it wasn't important."

The Potions Master bent his head a little in agreement. "What about Draco, then?"

"He has been strange lately. Quieter."

"And is that such a bad thing?" Severus questioned. "I recall the days when you used to moan to me about how your son would not be silent."

"I don't like it," Lucius frowned, his lips tightening. "His letters home are stiff. He no longer asks for advice. Severus, the single time he wrote for the entirety of winter was to say that he wished to stay at school for the holidays."

That was indeed strange. While Draco had been raised in the Malfoy household where obedience to the Head of House was enforced and propriety was strictly adhered to, the Malfoy heir had always been allowed to speak his mind when alone with his family and to question what he wished to question. And Draco had never hesitated to take advantage of such an indulgence on his parents' part. He was silent and proper when needed. But for the longest time, the little blond boy had constantly blabbered on about his day, his favorite Quidditch move, how excited he was to become a wizard, and a variety of other topics when he was alone with his family and his Potions Master of a godfather.

To hear that Draco had stopped doing so was either an indication that maturity was hitting early or something had changed.

"What do you wish for me to do about it?" Severus finally asked.

"I know you are a professor at Hogwarts and that you already have enough to worry about. But I hope it would not be too much for me to ask you to watch my son." Lucius paused for a moment, seeming to consider a thought, before continuing. "And the Vladimir boy."

That caught the Potions Master's attention. "Vladimir? Vladimir Dracula?"

"A painting of one of my ancestors came babbling to me earlier today. Demanding to know if Draco had yet told me the news that somebody had disrupted the Treasury."

"Somebody stole from your Treasury?"

"Hardly," the Malfoy patriarch dismissed. "I would have felt the wards alerting me. No, nothing was stolen. But somebody had seen something they should not have."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Surely you have nothing too incriminating in your Treasury. It is not like you to keep such things so…public."

Lucius waved a hand. "No, that is hardly a concern. But there are still relatively harmless yet valuable artifacts that my family has collected that we would prefer to keep to ourselves. That is something to worry about, but, Severus, that is not my main concern. What I am far more concerned about is the fact that my son had  _not_  told me about this particular incident at all."

The Potions Master remained silent for a long time before letting out a long breath and leaning forward. That was of severe concern. It might not seem like much to anybody else. Children lied all of the time. Children of the Malfoy household in particular were even taught how to lie properly. But in any pureblood household, the absolute loyalty was always to the family. And for Draco to fail to report such a happening to his own father, the head of the entire bloodline, meant a breach in such long-held tradition.

"Why the Vladimir boy, then?" Severus finally asked. "I can understand Draco. And I will watch him. But why Vladimir Dracula?" Not that the Potions Master himself wasn't without suspicions. There were many questionable things about that particular Slytherin.

"My son would not deviate so clearly without some sort of influence. And from what I have gathered from the letters he has sent, that boy is currently Draco's closest acquaintance. Who else is in a better position to change my son so?"

Severus couldn't exactly refute that. It was true. Even from the limited amount that he could see as a teacher, it was fairly clear that within the Slytherin First Years, Vladimir and Draco had recently been speaking far more than they had initially.

"Very well. I will do as you request."

"Thank you," Lucius said and so strange a phrase it was to hear coming from so proud a man's lips. "Now if you will excuse me, I have an elf to punish. The painting told me one of them had been there in the Treasury when it had been breached and I do not take well to such a failure."

~0~

Vlad was fairly sure it wasn't healthy to be awake at three in the morning and crouched over a desk in the Slytherin Common Rooms. Everybody was asleep and he should have been doing the same. But after Dobby had spontaneously disappeared and left him alone with the diary, he hadn't been able to settle or concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the day. The elf hadn't appeared again after Vlad had called it several times and the young vampire had eventually given up.

He had been so close to ridding himself of it. The problem had been that close to being fixed. But now he still had it in his possession and all of the issues that came with it. It was not so easy as locking it away and keeping it out of sight. No, this was apparently something essential to the constant paralyzing of the students at Hogwarts and Vlad couldn't very well leave it alone when it mattered so much.

Nox was the only other still awake at this hour with him, both colored eyes gazing at Vlad and ears perked up as if on sentry duty.

"There's nothing in it though," Vlad muttered to nobody in particular for the hundredth time. "What's so important about it?" The only thing that meant anything on it was perhaps the name engraved on it: T. M. Riddle. Whoever that was.

The more Vlad stared at it, the more something –  _something_  – bothered him at the back of his mind. And as he quietly stared at the inanimate object, his thoughts began to coalesce into coherent realization. He had read about blank books before. They were sometimes used as communication. One person would have a blank book and another would have the same. If somebody wrote in one book, the words would appear in the other and so on.

Vlad let out a groan and rubbed a hand down his face. With no Dobby to help him now, what was he supposed to do with this? Even if this book were the communication type, would it be wise to write in it?

Nox mewled as Vlad reached across the table to grasp the quill resting at the upper corner.

"I know, this is stupid," the young vampire muttered. "This is stupid and crazy and I'm probably going to be writing to some psychopath." The familiar didn't reply but instead closed its eyes and turned the other way.

Well, when your own familiar has to look away, it was hardly a good sign. But Vlad bit his lips and placed the tip of the quill to the page.

Almost immediately, the young vampire hissed and recoiled, dropping the quill and leaning as far back as his chair could allow. His eyes watched as the little ink he had placed on the parchment disappeared and words formed on their own.

_Hello?_

Vlad had to stifle another hiss. This wasn't just any ordinary communication book. He had felt the way something had automatically latched on to his magic the moment he had marked the page and  _pulled._ It made everything within Vlad recoil because never before had he felt anything or anybody invade him on such a level. His parents had occasionally communicated him through his mind before. The Sorting Hat had done something similar. But to have something touch his  _magic_? Like a leech sucking away at him?

_Hello? Is anybody there?_

Quite frankly, Vlad was ready to throw the thing into the fire and be done with it. What was the point of communicating anymore. Destroying it would get rid of all his problems. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He reached forward, even though his entire being was rebelling against the thought of even touching the book again, and shut the diary before grasping it in one hand and moving quickly to the hearth.

A fire was already burning brightly there. It never died down because having the dorms in the dungeons usually meant it took a little extra effort to keep warm and having no fire usually meant a freezing Common Room to walk into in the morning.

Vlad hastily flung the diary into the emerald flames and backed away a little, wary of the magical reaction that might result. But to his dismay, nothing happened. He waited a few minutes, his eyes never leaving the black cover or the slightly yellowed pages tinged green within the fire. But when it became clear that the diary wasn't being damaged at all, the young vampire wanted to let out a scream of frustration.

When he had finally managed to pull the book back out and had gathered enough courage to open to the first page again, the words were still there asking if anybody was there.

The young vampire grit his teeth and ignored Nox's sounds of displeasure.

 _My name is Vlad._ He was clenching his quill so hard, his knuckles were white and it took all of Vlad's willpower not to withdraw again.

_Hello Vlad. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?_

The words began to fade away by the time Vlad had finished his reply.

_Tom Riddle? Do you go to Hogwarts?_

There was a slight pause, as if whoever was replying was hesitating. Then:

_I did. But now I am but a memory. I enchanted this diary when I was attending school._

Vlad knew enough to know that Tom Riddle must have been one astounding student to have the ability to create something like this. It was, essentially, an autonomous object. It was clear, from the way the replies were coming, that it was the book itself that was answering and not some other person holding the same book on the other side. And Vlad had thought it was strange for a communication book to be named something as personal as a diary and now he knew that it was exactly that. It was singular, not meant for more than one person to see at a time. Or this could all be a huge fluke and there was still somebody writing on the other side.

It seemed that the Tom had gotten impatient while waiting for Vlad to write something. New words were already blooming upon the parchment.

_Which House are you in?_

_Slytherin._

_I was as well. Tell me, are the snake carvings in the wall still occasionally terrorizing the students?_

That brought a small smile to Vlad's lips and he replied that yes, the carved snakes still did meander throughout the Common Room and startle the occasional student. But he still remained wary. To know that Tom Riddle had once been a Slytherin did little to encourage Vlad that this diary was in any way harmless.

_Are you at school right now?_

_Yes, I am at Hogwarts._

_I heard from the last person who stumbled across me that some terrible things are happening right now. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened again?_

Vlad's first instinct was to question who had written in the diary last. But as the words about the Chamber of Secrets appeared, he couldn't help but grimace and follow that particular thread of thought.

_Again? The Chamber has been opened before?_

_In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who had opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned._

Which was probably a load of bat droppings as far as Vlad was concerned. Everything Tom had written might have been true, but there was more to it than that. This book was dangerous and Vlad had the constant tugging and invasion of magic to always remind him. He needed to finish writing soon; he wasn't so sure how much more he could stand having his magic stolen from him.

When the young vampire looked back at the page, words were already forming.  _Let me show you._

Without any indication, the pull on Vlad's magic increased intensely and the young vampire's eyes widened. He jerked his quill away from the parchment and for the second time that night, stumbled backwards, and this time fell backwards to the floor with the chair landing beside him in a crash. Instinctively, Vlad contained his magic, kept it from being pulled from him, and cut off the flow to the diary.

"What the bloody hell are you doing so early in the morning?"

Vlad looked up painfully from his position on the floor only to close his eyes and groan loudly. "Did I wake everybody else up too?"

"With all of the noise you're making? You probably woke up a clan of trolls in the mountains," Draco grumbled. "For Merlin's sake, Vlad, it's four in the morning. The Prefects are probably going to wring your neck if you don't get back to the dorm right now."

The young vampire sighed and nodded, waving his friend away and waiting for Draco to go on ahead back to bed before pulling himself back up and glancing down at the diary.

It was blank again, as if that elegant, cursive handwriting had never been there.

~0~

Vlad never again thought of writing in the diary. He tried to keep it out of his mind and locked in his trunk. As four months passed and nobody else was petrified, life seemed to settle into a pleasant calm that made the young vampire hope perhaps he wouldn't need to deal with the diary again. People stopped asking Vlad about his near-death experience, Harry was more or less left alone eventually about his Parseltongue, Draco seemed placid for the first time, and the mandrakes needed to revive the attacked were near maturity. Easter holidays were upon them faster than Vlad had imagined and although students were not allowed to return home for the short break, the various Houses did a magnificent job of setting up activities to keep students occupied.

Harry seemed more or less relaxed nowadays and it comforted Vlad to see that the Gryffindor wasn't bothered by the missing diary for very long. For the first few days, it seemed Harry was searching for something, always glancing about. But as the hype died down, so did everybody's anxiety levels.

But then Hermione Granger was petrified and whatever peace Vlad had come to treasure withered before his eyes.

* * *

 

**Till next time!**


	32. A Moment

**Chapter 32: A Moment**

"You have to help us."

Quite frankly, Vlad found it to be far too early for something like this to be slapping him in the face. It was the weekend for goodness sake. There had been a Quidditch game scheduled for eleven in the morning and the young vampire had been hoping to use that to his advantage. Everybody would have and should have been at the game right now and he could have been comfortably slouching down to the kitchens for a late breakfast after a few more hours of sleep. It was about noon now and as far as Vlad was concerned, the only thing he should have been worried about was his empty stomach and the foot long paper due for Potions.

But when one Harry Potter comes around the corner, spots you, and immediately proceeds to demand you for help, it is a clear indicator that things aren't going to go according to plan.

"What?" Vlad asked confused. He had never seen the Gryffindor so agitated before.

"You have to help," Harry repeated fiercely. "Things are just getting worse!"

The young vampire rubbed his forehead. "Wait, what? What happened? I just got up, Harry."

"Hermione. And Percy's girlfriend. They're petrified now too. They cancelled the Quidditch game because of it."

For bat's sake. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I really am. But…what makes you think I'll be able to help?"

"Because I know you have the diary."

Vlad's blood ran cold. "What –"

"I confronted Draco about it. I saw him take it when I dropped it in the hall. But when I asked him about it, all he said was that he didn't have it anymore."

"So then what makes you think –"

"I asked Myrtle about it," Harry interrupted again, clearly in a hurry to get the explanations out of the way. "Because she had probably seen who had thrown it away in the first place. She couldn't say who had thrown it away, she did eventually tell me who  _had_  asked about it before."

That little traitor of a ghost. Vlad felt a little wave of anger at Myrtle's double-crossing, but didn't dwell on it. He had to handle the situation before him first before addressing that particular problem.

"So maybe I did ask about it," Vlad admitted cautiously. "But what makes you think I have it?"

At that, Harry faltered a little bit, the fire in his eyes dimming in realization that perhaps his rationale hadn't quite gotten that far yet. "It's just…well, since Draco was the one who took it and you're his friend I just figured…"

Vlad had to make a snap decision. A part of him wanted to continue along this line. He wanted to keep everything he knew still a secret from Harry. But at the same time, he was nearly at his breaking point; he needed somebody else to help him. He had the diary, yes. He knew what creature roamed the castle. He knew the Chamber was probably real. Despite all of those facts solidified though, Vlad didn't know what to do with it and quite frankly if Harry wanted to constantly throw himself into perilous situations that was his decision.

"Say I do have the diary," Vlad slowly spoke. "What about my possessing it would help you at all?"

"Ron recognized the name on the diary from one of the older trophies in the Trophy Room during one of his detentions. Whoever owned that diary probably knew something about the Chamber. They lived when it was opened years ago. Maybe there is some information in it that could help!"

The young vampire frowned. "You know the diary is completely blank right?"

"Yes, I – what?"

"The entire book is blank."

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "But that can't be. I know the first few pages don't have anything but there has to be something later on."

"No." Vlad steeled himself and hoped that he wasn't making a huge mistake for what he was about to say next. "But that doesn't mean there isn't  _anything_  in it at all."

~0~

Vlad was starting to think the wizarding world was just as crazy as the vampire one he had grown up in. Perhaps it was a different sort of crazy, but crazy all the same. Or maybe he was just a magnet for the strange and insane.

As he crept past sleeping paintings and listened closely for any signs of professors patrolling the halls, Vlad wondered why he had even agreed to this. Telling Harry everything on a sudden whim now seemed like a stupid thing to do in hindsight. Yes, it had calmed the Gryffindor down tremendously, giving him something to occupy his mind from his friend's sudden petrification. But would this really help in the end? This was a recipe for disaster and Vlad knew it.

When he reached the trophy room, he quickly caught sight of shifting Gryffindor robes and asked, "Are you sure this is the best place to meet?"

"It's one of the only rooms not locked after curfew and practically nobody comes here," a voice Vlad hadn't been expecting replied.

The young vampire shot a look at the fiery red hair identifying the uninvited guest and scowled at Harry, who came into sight a moment later. "I thought you said it would just be us."

"Well, I couldn't just let Harry go alone," Ron sniffed, crossing his arms. "After Hermione got petrified I figured I ought to keep a closer eye on my friends."

"Ron wouldn't let me go without him," Harry confessed as way of explanation. "He just wants to help."

This wouldn't be any easier with the redhead here. It was no secret to Vlad that Ron did not trust him. And perhaps part of it was because he was in Slytherin and he had been less than amiable the few times they had interacted. But perhaps a larger part of Ron's lack of belief in him was because he  _had_  met for a time – no matter how small – before things such as prejudice and House rivalries got in between. Vlad did not believe Ron to be dumb by any means and a dark, dark part of him wondered if the mistrust the Weasley held for him came from their initial encounter upon the train.

The young vampire decided this was neither the time nor the place to argue over something as small as Ron's presence. He had known all along that sooner or later Harry would tell his friend everything he would have learned tonight anyway. So Vlad merely shrugged it off and turned to pull Tom Riddle's diary from his robes.

"There is a trophy for a Tom Riddle here," Ron whispered, as if he was suddenly keenly aware how loudly their voices echoed. He twisted around to look about before pausing and pointing towards a small, almost unnoticeable plaque placed upon one of the lower glass shelves on the right hand side of the room. "That's it. It's a Medal for Magical Merit."

Harry glanced over once before turning to Vlad. "I'll look at it later. We can always come back during the day, but I already promised Vlad I'd only write in the book here." He gripped the book and softly opened it to the first page, still as blank as if the Slytherin across him had never written in it, and pulled out a quill.

"Remember," Vlad murmured tightly. "Don't trust him – it – whatever it is. No matter what he says."

Harry nodded once and took a deep breath. He seemed to gather strength for a second before quickly scrawling down his first words.

_My name is Harry Potter._

The reply was almost instantaneous. It appeared almost before Harry's words had properly disappeared into the parchment.  _Hello Harry. My name is Tom Riddle. Are you a Hogwarts student?_

_Yes. I love it here. But bad things have been happening lately._

_I used to be a student at Hogwarts. Perhaps I can help?_

Harry glanced up at both Vlad and Ron, who were carefully watching the entire exchange.  _Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?_

_I can show you._

At those words, Vlad lunged forward to grasp Harry's arm. But the Boy-Who-Lived quickly shook his head and pushed the young vampire away. Before either of them could exchange any words, a fierce wind seemed to pick up. It flipped the pages within the book at a blurring rate, and when it became too strong for any of the three boys to keep their eyes open, a bright light encompassed the room for a moment before dying away and taking Harry with it.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered. "There's no way somebody  _didn't_  notice that."

Vlad, for once, strongly agreed with him. "Come on. We have to move." He reached down and picked up the book from the floor as they hastily crept away.

Neither of them was very sure for how long Harry would be gone and the unspoken question hanging in the air was if he would return at all. Vlad personally thought Harry was crazy for going along with what an autonomous book was saying, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He suggested to Ron that they return to their dorms for the night. They couldn't do anything right now and it wouldn't do them any good to just be wandering with the risk of getting caught hanging over their heads.

When the Gryffindor insisted that he be the one to take the diary for the night, Vlad had instinctively said no. But Ron elaborated that if Harry did return, it would be best if he arrived in the Gryffindor dorms where he belonged rather than magically appearing from a book in the Slytherin dungeons. And Vlad couldn't quite argue with that logic. So he reluctantly handed over the book and they parted ways.

But things were never that clean cut with the young vampire. Because when he turned the next corner to return back to his dorm, he saw a rather furious looking Draco blocking his path.

Vlad opened his mouth to say something – anything – to salvage the situation. But the blond snapped up a hand and angrily whispered, "In the Common Room."

There was a distinct sense of déjà vu when the Malfoy heir shut the entrance to the Slytherin rooms and turned to face Vlad. "You know, you have an awful habit of disappearing at night. And I have the unfortunate habit of sleeping lightly so I am always lucky enough to hear you disappear."

"Draco –"

"But I don't follow you, you know. I can respect that you have your own thing to do. We all have our secrets. But you've been acting strangely lately, especially after you practically died in the middle of a hallway. And I couldn't exactly leave it alone when Harry bloody Potter of all people walks up to me after hearing about the attack on his Mudblood friend and demands that I give him the very same diary I let you have." The blond boy shot Vlad a scathing look. "So I followed Potter to give him a piece of my mind and guess what I saw."

Good garlic when Harry had told him he had asked Draco for the book, Vlad hadn't known that the questioning had happened just that very morning. And of all the nights not to bring the Invisibility Cloak with him. Vlad had chosen not to – in case something happened and Harry found out. But it was just his fortune that Draco had chosen to take careful note of the young vampire's recent behavior and had caught him talking to Harry.

"You owe me," Draco continued, his anger tightly reigned in. "You owe me for that book I took off Potter. Which I don't understand since you ended up giving it right back to him. But I'm not going to force you to tell me. I'm just going to say that you owe me and hope that whatever shoddy…friendship we have is enough."

They stood there in silence for a long time. When Vlad had imagined the people around him finding out the things he had been keeping to himself, he hadn't quite thought it would all happen in such quick succession. He didn't want to tell Draco. Draco was one of the last people he wanted to tell. But the Malfoy heir seemed to have seen it all and Vlad was too tired, too out of his depth.

The vampire let out a long sigh and quietly called out, "Nox."

From one of the bookshelves' large shadows, the small feline form of Vlad's familiar appeared and slunk over to his master. Nox could sense the young vampire's less than happy demeanor and he mewled in comfort.

"Let me know if anybody is coming and stop anybody who is listening."

The cat blinked once and then vanished down one of the several corridors branching from the Common Room they were standing in.

Draco watched Nox go, no longer surprised at the animal's strange ability to understand Vlad. Even for a magical creature, the cat was intelligent. "Are you sure that will be enough to stop eavesdroppers?"

"More than enough," Vlad replied before catching his friend's gaze and holding it. "What I'm about to tell you is something that you can't tell anybody."

"You know I can keep a secret."

"I mean it when I say anybody. Draco, that includes your family. Especially your family."

The Malfoy heir frowned. "Why?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it is thanks to your father that the Chamber is opened at all?"

There was a long pause. "If it were anybody else, Vlad, I would have hexed them for saying that."

"You didn't answer the question."

Draco struggled with himself for a minute. Then he set his jaw and replied, "Fine. Fine, say I believe you. Now tell me why you think so."

It took a long time to explain it all. Not only because there was a lot to tell, but also because Vlad was telling it to the heir of the  _Malfoy House_. He had to be particularly careful the way he worded things and even then, he had barely gotten into five minutes of the explanation before Draco had leapt at the mention of Dobby. It took a lot of patience, drawn out rationale, and careful avoidance of anything linking Vlad to last year's episode with the Philosopher's Stone before the last words fell from the young vampire's mouth.

Watching Draco sit a little frozen, digesting it all, was unnerving. Yes, his friend had not hesitated to ask questions and demand further answers while he was speaking. But never once had the Malfoy heir articulated whether he was going to support or even completely accept what Vlad was saying. Whatever Draco was going to say next would determine that.

The blond Slytherin started off slowly, tasting the words in his mouth before releasing them. "My family has never been known for their kindness. But I trust them. I have always trusted them." He let out a slight breath and glanced to the side. "I trust them to care for me and they do. I trust them to tell me what I need to know and I trust them to raise me to be prepared. I trust them with a lot of things. I want you to know that."

"I know," Vlad replied with a resigned note in his voice. "I understand." The Malfoys might be Voldemort sympathizers, but his family thought murder was an everyday thing and he still loved them in his own way. So yes, Vlad did know. Probably more than anybody else.

"That said, I believe you."

Vlad tried to keep the surprise off his face. "Just like that?"

"You explained yourself," Draco pointed out, surprisingly calm. "I can believe my father would give somebody a Dark artifact if it would benefit our Household in any way." The blond lifted his head and looked at his friend in the eye. "But what I won't believe is that he intended to open the Chamber of Secrets for absolutely no reason at all. Maybe he did know that the diary would do the things it did. But I don't think he would have done it if he had known it would put me in danger too. I don't think he meant to have some monster on the loose."

"Alright." Vlad could work with that. "So you won't tell anybody."

"I won't. But from now on, I'm in on this."

The young vampire blinked. "Wait, I don't –"

"Don't think for one moment that you can keep this from me anymore, Dracula. This has my family involved in it and I have every right to see this through. After all, it was my house elf that got you dragged into this in the first place." Draco's face darkened. "And I want to know whether all of this was worth my father's keeping it from me."

~0~

It was as if the world had been turned upon its head. Barely a day ago, Draco would have never found himself standing in one of the less traveled corridors with Potter and Weasley instead of having breakfast. He could barely stand the sight of them and it took a great deal of his willpower to maintain calm control. It amazed Draco on a daily basis how Vlad could so easily speak with them even if his friend's impatience with Weasley occasionally bled through.

In fact, it was only Vlad's presence that he was here at all and not trying to land the Gryffindors in some sort of unfortunate situation.

"Tom showed me that it was Hagrid," Harry was explaining, glancing at Draco every few seconds as if to really register the Slytherin was there. When Draco had come with Vlad to meet the Gryffindors, it had come as a surprise and had required a few minutes of reassurance and explanations on Vlad's part. Ron and Harry had been very reluctant to allow another into their secret and only at the Romanian boy's firm insistence did they acquiesce. "It was Hagrid who raised the monster in the Chamber and then it escaped when Tom confronted him."

Vlad raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? What did the monster look like?"

"About up to our waist. It was black and it moved too quickly for me to really catch. The thing had a lot of legs."

Draco wanted to scoff. There was no way that could be the monster of the Chamber. "Are we even on the same page, Potter?"

The Boy Who Lived scowled. "What?"

"What Draco means," placated Vlad, "is that we don't think that's completely right. Tom probably left out something because we're fairly sure the monster is a Basilisk."

At both of the Gryffindor's stymied looks, Draco sighed and explained, "It's a very, very big snake. That can kill you with its eyes and with its poisonous fangs." Honestly, it was probably one of the most notorious creatures in the world. He figured the staff had already figured out this much already simply because once looked at, the answer was blindingly obvious. Salazar Slytherin was known for his affinity for snakes, the Basilisk is a snake, and students have been being petrified – the result of catching sight of the monster's eyes indirectly.

Which made Draco wonder a little bit why his friend hadn't been petrified completely. Vlad had explained to him the previous night about how he had seen a pair of eyes before blacking out and landing in the infirmary. But if he had actually seen the eyes indirectly, how had he managed to recover in a matter of days while every other victim, even the ghost for Merlin's sake, was still incapacitated?

Then again, Vlad practiced wandless magic and didn't like Quidditch. He was something of an anomaly still – no matter how much closer Draco had gotten.

"Maybe I didn't see it correctly then," Harry eventually said. "It all happened so quickly I probably couldn't recognize it as a snake."

"Or maybe that diary is trying to trick you," Vlad disagreed. "That book is dangerous and we can't forget that. We can't just trust it without any proof. For all we know, what you saw wasn't really a memory. It could have been an illusion or something Tom created on the spot."

Neither of them had told the Gryffindors how the book had gotten into Hogwarts in the first place. Vlad had merely said that Draco had overheard and should be allowed to be a part of their investigations. And for that, the Malfoy heir was appreciative. It would do no good to spread information about Lucius Malfoy unleashing Dark artifacts into Hogwarts and consequently opening the Chamber of Secrets. A part of Draco still didn't believe it. He trusted Vlad because the other Slytherin was honestly too good of a person for his own good. But it was difficult to imagine his father of all people being so careless.

Ron cleared his throat. "I still think we should go talk to Hagrid. Just to make sure. If he has nothing to hide, then he will tell us."

"So sure about that, Weasley?" Draco sneered. Personally, he doubted it. Who in their right mind would risk their own self-preservation by admitting they were actually part of a crime? At Vlad's less than subtle jab in the ribs though, the blond Slytherin refrained from any more commentary.

"What Draco means," Vlad had to hastily add in again, "is that maybe bluntly asking somebody if they've actually done something Azkaban worthy isn't quite the right way to do it."

Harry was quick to defend the groundskeeper. "But Hagrid is a good person. He's a friend. He would tell us."

And this was probably why Draco would never be able to see eye to eye with people like Potter and Weasley. They lived in a fantasy world where everybody had halos around their heads and had wings upon their backs. It was frustrating to deal with. Even Vlad, who was the most infuriatingly decent person in Slytherin, knew that not everything in the world worked with rainbows and sunshine.

The Romanian boy beside Draco seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then he nodded reluctantly. "Alright."

They agreed upon going during the hour after curfew. For Draco, that was a little uncomfortable – although he would rather be petrified than admit as much aloud. He had always been something of a good student despite his reputation and it was something embarrassing to admit that he felt uneasy and inadequate with he landed himself in detention. But even he could see the piece of irony that such a possibility could hold him back. So the Malfoy heir had kept such worries to himself when the others chose to go.

Personally, Draco saw this as madness. Only simple-minded cretins threw themselves into such situations with careful analysis of the consequences. When he had gotten himself in trouble during First Year for trying to follow Potter and Weasley, he had been driven by emotion and he had sworn to never get himself caught again – not without logic to fuel his actions. But it seemed that he had gotten himself tied up in some trouble again.

This time though, he couldn't help but feel a tiny piece of his mind arguing that maybe it was okay to do this. After all, if his family had trusted him enough to tell him everything in the first place, he wouldn't have to be snooping around would he? Draco had always respected his family's judgment on what he should or shouldn't know. After all, there were some things he knew he would be better off not knowing yet for all of their safety. But not this time. This time, he was very much involved in the consequences and his father and mother had yet to warn him of anything.

It made Draco feel betrayed and maybe a little hurt. If they weren't willing to tell him something like this, what else of such importance could they be hiding from him? It was like a vicious piece of doubt had wormed its way into his mind.

And that was why he was walking beside two Gryffindors and somebody he once never would have dreamt of calling his friend later that evening. If nothing else, he needed to see this through to prove to himself whether that horrid sliver of distrust was truly warranted or not.

All four of the boys flinched when the half-giant opened his door to his home – better defined as a hovel in Draco's mind – with a giant crossbow in hand.

The huge man didn't lower it when he caught sight of the two Slytherin boys standing warily behind Harry and Ron. "What're all of yer doing here?" the groundskeeper asked.

Draco had to literally bite his tongue to keep a tart retort from leaking past his lips. He really did have to work on that. Perhaps Vlad was right about his lack of control around things he didn't particularly like.

"What's that for?" Potter asked in reply, pointing towards the crossbow and taking the opportunity to step inside. Draco and Vlad quickly followed the Gryffindor.

"Nothin' –" the half-giant muttered. "I've jus' been expectin'…nothin'." The man instead pointed to the Slytherins standing in his home. "What're  _they_  doin' here?"

Draco noted how the groundskeeper seemed hardly to notice what he was doing. He attempted to put down the crossbow, but barely flinched when the trigger accidently went off with a brush of a giant finger and impaled one of the walls. The man was so distracted that as he pulled the arrow out of the wall and dropped it beside the bow, he didn't notice his other hand nearly extinguishing the fire as he tried to pick up the teapot that had been warming there.

The half-giant was nervous to say the least.

It seemed Potter had noticed as well. Quite frankly, it was difficult not to. "Are you okay, Hagrid?"

The man fumbled with a giant fruitcake before dropping it with a heavy thump on the wooden floor. "I – don' worry 'bout it Harry I'm jus' – why is Malfoy 'ere –"

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door and whatever progress the groundskeeper had made in picking up the fruitcake disappeared as the man dropped again with a flinch. All four of the boys there shared their first moment of unified clarity at the horror of being caught and all of them quickly dashed out the back door and hurled themselves against the wall. Draco, being the last one out the door, made sure to leave a large enough sliver open for them to listen.

The half-giant seemed to barely notice they had left, so concentrated he was on resetting his crossbow and flinging open his door once again.

"Good evening, Hagrid." It was Dumbledore and for the first time since Draco had laid disgusted eyes upon the Headmaster, the old wizard seemed deadly serious.

Dumbledore was followed in by another man who had Draco almost gasping in surprise. The man had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. It seemed ridiculous a combination and it rivaled the strangest of color arrangements. It would have had Draco's mother shuddering in vile disapproval.

The young Malfoy heir immediately recognized the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and it seemed Weasley did too because not a moment later, the redhead was gasping, "That's Dad's boss! The Minister of Magic!"

It was disturbing how much Draco agreed with the way Potter elbowed his friend to shut up. At this rate, he would be calling the Gryffindor by first name.

Cornelius settled himself into one of the chairs and was immediately speaking. "Bad business, Hagrid. Very bad business. You see, the Ministry must act. With five attacks on the students we can't very well leave things the way they are. Parents aren't taking the news with patience especially since one of the students wasn't even muggleborn."

"But you now I never –" the groundskeeper was pale and his hands were shaking badly, "Professor Dumbledore, please –"

"I have full confidence in Hagrid," the Headmaster told the Minister, turning to look at the man with a gaze not quite gentle.

"I know and appreciate your input," Cornelius nodded. "But the school governors have been in contact." At Dumbledore's fiery look, the man adjusted his line of speech. "Look at it from my position, Dumbledore. I can't just allow the students to stay in peril. I have to give them some sort of reassurance."

"By accusing an innocent man?"

"By doing more than incurring an earlier curfew, Dumbledore," The Minister replied a little angrily. "The people won't be satisfied unless I do something and if it means taking Hagrid here for a little period of time –"

"Take me?" the half-giant interrupted. "Take me where?"

It was perhaps the first time since entering Hogwarts that Draco felt any touch of sympathy for the groundskeeper. The man seemed so distraught and the way he had desperately asked where he would be taken, the panic and complete  _fear_  in his tone, made the Malfoy heir pause for the slightest bit and actually see the half-giant for more than just the local creature meant to clean up the vicinity. This was just a man – albeit a large one – who seemed, for all intents and purposes, unable to hurt a fly. The crossbow was certainly an issue with that image, but for Merlin's sake the groundskeeper was going up against wizards and such a weapon was effectively useless. A sad attempt at control over a situation that he knew he didn't have.

It was a momentary lapse, but a lapse none the same that had Draco blinking hard to clear his mind.

"Not Azkaban," the half-giant was whispering in horror.

"I assure it will only be until the actual culprit is caught," Cornelius amended in an effort to calm a near hysterical Hagrid. "We just need to calm the public for now."

The Minister stopped in the middle of what he was saying at the sound of another loud rap at the door.

The four hiding boys peered over the small ledge of the window above their heads to see Dumbledore standing up and opening the entrance to reveal Lucius Malfoy entering with a long, black traveling cloak and something of a slight smirk on his lips.

It was Potter's turn to get elbowed in the ribs for his gasp and Draco would have very well reacted the same way if shock hadn't frozen him.

"What're you doin' here?" the groundskeeper demanded, his fear now channeled into anger. "Get out!"

"Trust me, I have no desire to be in this – do you really call this a house?" the Malfoy patriarch replied smoothly and lazily. "I was simply here on duty on behalf of the school board. You see," he pulled out a long roll of parchment, "there are all twelve signatures on here for an Order of Suspension. You must be losing your touch, Dumbledore. Many parents are concerned for the students and with so many attacks we thought this would be best. An awful loss, but necessary."

Fudge seemed distinctly less comfortable with this decision. "But Lucius, surely you see that it would be best to keep Dumbledore here. Who's to say there are others better to solve the problem?"

Lucius smiled frigidly. "We'll have to see about that, Minister. Unfortunately, it is up to the board's decision and since all twelve have signed –"

Hagrid was on his feet in an instant. "An' I wonder how many of 'em ye had to blackmail before they agreed? Withou' Professor Dumbledore, all the kids'll be in danger!"

"Calm down, Hagrid," the Headmaster commanded in a quiet but unyielding voice. He eyed the head of the Malfoy house and said, "I will go for now since the entire board has agreed upon it. But know that I will always be here for the students and that help will always be given at Hogwarts for those who ask for it."

That seemed to deflate whatever fire had ignited the half-giant's anger. But he quickly seemed to remember something because he paused as Cornelius uncomfortably placed restrictions upon the groundskeeper and loudly said, "Well, if 'nybody wants to know…follow the spiders. Ye'. That's all." Everybody in the room gave Hagrid strange looks but the men left out the front door without any further commotion.

~0~

Draco wasn't quite sure what to do with the all-consuming anger and utter sense of betrayal that plagued him as summer slowly made its way through the school. The trees and flowers were in full bloom and the plants they were nurturing in Herbology were healthy and ripe. The sun quickly broke through the customary cloudy mornings quickly now and whatever chill had lingered within the halls during spring gave way to warm gusts of air.

But for all of the brightness that nature brought with her, nobody in the castle seemed to sense it. There wasn't a day that passed without tense frowns and furrowed brows marring the students' faces and although there were oftentimes several attempts among them to cheer up the atmosphere, it always somehow ended up leaving everybody more morose and nervous. The teachers were almost obsessive about the strict early curfew now and nobody was allowed to visit the petrified.

Amonst the Slytherins, a heavy seriousness had descended upon them. Early on in the Chamber's opening, they had been relatively worry-free with the belief that Salazar Slytherin's creature wouldn't hurt one of its own. But after the attack on Vlad, who was clearly not muggleborn, and the terseness of their normally unruffled Head of House increased to decipherable levels, everybody within the House understood that this was no longer a laughing matter.

Dumbledore's removal, in particular, weighed on everybody's minds. And although the Slytherin House had never been favorable towards their views on the old wizard, the fact that the man had provided a sense of security for his school was something nobody could contest.

Vlad was quiet nowadays – more so than he normally was. He was still studious as ever and the model student. But Draco knew that his friend was on edge almost constantly and after learning everything, the Malfoy heir could understand the feeling. He, too, felt anxious and stressed almost all of the time and it was a testament to how much it affected him when he caught himself glancing at Potter and Weasley for any sort of understanding. Only the four of them had known exactly what had happened at Hagrid's hut that night and it remained a question as to whether they should do anything about it.

Draco normally would have felt no qualms about what his father had done. He actually didn't because he knew his father owned Fudge like a master did a puppet and he knew the lengths his family would go to for things to go their way. No, Draco was not surprised nor disturbed at all with the way his father had gone about to remove Dumbledore and if he didn't know what he did, he would have applauded him for it.

But now it was just perfidy in his eyes. He might not yet have proof that his father had actually allowed in a Dark artifact such as that diary to destroy the school, but now Draco was less inclined to so blindly believe. Getting Dumbledore suspended did nothing except leave everybody in the school – him included – more open to the attacks. The Malfoy heir did not like the Headmaster but he did value how much safer it made his classes knowing that a man capable of defeating a Dark Lord was there to protect them all. Draco's father  _knew_  this, and yet he had chosen to continue with the removal. And he had yet to explain any of it to Draco, seemingly content to allow his son to remain as ignorant as the rest of the population.

Family was always first. That was what Draco had always been taught. But how was keeping him in the dark doing any good? His father always knew more than he let on and it burned something within Draco's chest to know that shard of doubt was more fiercely embedded in his heart.

"You want to talk about it?" Vlad asked the day Draco lost his temper and threw his Potions book to the floor. They were alone, which was the only reason why the Malfoy heir had even indulged in the action, and for once he was so glad he had somebody in his life who was willing to ask and actually listen.

"I just – how could my father do this?"

Vlad, Draco had surmised by now, was no fan of the Malfoy patriarch. He was uncomfortable at best when Lucius Malfoy came into conversation. So it surprised Draco when the Romanian boy said, "He is probably only trying to protect you. I'm sure he only means the best for you."

Draco raised an eyebrow in disbelief. " _You_  believe that?"

"You told me yourself that you trusted your family. And I believed that, yes. So no, I don't think your father means to keep everything he has been doing from you. What would it have done to tell you?"

"I am not some spoiled brat demanding to be told everything," Draco snarled. "I know my father keeps things to himself because he feels he has to. But this…this is something I never expected. I could be the next one petrified or even worse, killed. Maybe knowing everything wouldn't stop that from happening, but at least I'd know. At least I wouldn't have gone down thinking this had nothing to do with me and – Merlin." He buried his face in his hands. "I must have sounded like a complete  _idiot_  saying muggleborns deserve this. Quite frankly, I still don't care what happens to them all but –"

He didn't know how to say it. He wasn't a murderer or some psychopath who enjoyed seeing people dead and gone. And maybe for the first time, he realized that there was a fine line between saying he was okay with it and actually being okay with it. He didn't want to be associated with such a thing. He just understood that sometimes life and success required more than simple goodness and obedience.

"Draco –" Vlad began. But he was abruptly cut off when he saw Weasley's face appear around the corner of a bookshelf.

"I've got news," the redhead interrupted, approaching them quickly. "The diary's been stolen."

Draco's eyes widened. "What? How?"

"Neville just came to Harry and I and told us that somebody had gone and shredded through all of Harry's stuff. By the time we got there, to see, the book was gone."

"They got through your protective charms?" Vlad asked in horrified disbelief.

"What? What charms? They got through the locks and just left everything thrown about!"

Draco was seriously starting to wonder why they had thought it wise at all to leave the diary in the Gryffindors' possession. It was normal in Slytherin to have protective charms. It was sort of a necessity in a House where privacy and constant fear of having one's possessions taken or spotted were very real concerns. But clearly, things were different in the House of the courageous.

Vlad seemed to be having the same thoughts, his lips pursed in a thin line. "So what now?"

"Harry is cleaning up his place, but we think we should follow Hagrid's lead. Tonight. Before whoever took the diary does anything else."

By the time Weasley had disappeared, Draco was wondering when involving all four of them had become a given for the Gryffindors rather than a question.

~0~

Vlad had told Harry and Ron weeks ago, after Hagrid's arrest and Dumbledore's removal, that the hint about spiders only solidified their belief that the Basilisk was the monster in the Chamber. It was a fact that spiders had a great fear for the mythical snake and for the half-giant to reference spiders specifically had to be more than coincidence. Draco had promptly wondered in between classes that day why on earth following Hagrid's clue would do any good, but this point, they were all lost. The diary was now gone. They had nothing else to lead them.

Then Draco had asked why they didn't just tell a professor and have it out of their hands. But Vlad quickly shot that suggestion away not only because he knew the Gryffindor duo wouldn't just be able to sit by and allow the adults to take care of the situation, but because he knew that whatever they would tell the older witches and wizards would only be taken with a grain of salt. They were only children after all. Everything they would say would just sound like the imaginations of Second Years stressed from the attacks.

The young vampire knew something was up with Draco when the Malfoy heir had quickly acquiesced after that. It seemed that since finding out his family's involvement with the opening of the Chamber and watching his father take away the Headmaster, the blond boy had been brooding and more inclined to follow what he normally would have considered reckless. Draco seemed determined to see this through and it made Vlad feel guilty for feeling relieved that his friend thought so. He no longer felt so lonely and so drowned with another person involved.

"Why," Draco muttered as they crept through the castle halls, "does it always end up with us crawling around at night like bugs?"

Vlad was wondering the same thing. They had arranged to meet with Harry and Ron at the east entrance down to the grounds and it seemed like the fifth déjà vu he had this year. Already, though, he could see the line of little spiders scuttling along the wall out of the castle and realized that their choice of meeting point was probably a wise one.

They arrived at the exit almost at the exact same time the two Gryffindors came scrambling around the corner.

"Sorry," Harry whispered, trying to calm his breath. "But Snape nearly caught us and I'm not so sure he isn't headed this way."

The mention of their less-than-forgiving Head of House had Vlad and Draco hastily escaping out to open air with Harry and Ron following closely. It was difficult to follow the spiders with almost no moon out, but the young vampire quickly cast a basic tracking charm on one of the spiders crawling by. From there, it was a simple matter of keeping their heads low and away from any source of light that could expose them.

It was with a sense of dread that Vlad realized the spider they were tracking were headed towards the Forbidden Forest.

"You have got to be kidding me," Ron mumbled at the end of the small line they had formed. Clearly, everybody else had realized the same thing.

"We have to go," Harry replied softly, urgently.

Draco remained stoically silent, but Vlad knew that last year's visit to the Forest hadn't done any of them any good.

Going through the large trees was unnerving and the young vampire had to constantly remind himself that Quirrell was no longer here and that Voldemort wasn't either. They would be okay. But as the forest became denser and the roots of the trees became gradually large enough for them to have to climb over, that reassurance did little to quell his worries. This was even further than they had gone in their First Year and they had gone off the beaten path a long time ago.

Draco and Harry had decided at some point that casting a low  _lumos_  would be a good idea. They were moving very slowly now and it was only thanks to that bit of light that none of them had tripped on the underlying brush or stone yet. The Forest was still eerily quiet though and none of them dared to breathe for fear of calling any more attention to themselves.

Finally, Ron let out a little yelp and all of them jumped to face him. "I – I heard something. Something is moving. Over there." The Gryffindor pointed a shaking finger towards their right.

All of them listened. Something big was snapping branches as it moved through the trees.

"Oh no," Ron continued to panic. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh –"

"Would you shut up?" Draco hissed as quietly as he could. "It'll hear us!"

All of them stood, terrified, and waiting as the rumbling came to a stop and the oppressive silence of the Forest returned again.

"What is it doing?" Harry whispered. "Do you think it's gone?"

When a blaze of light overtook their vision, almost all of them stumbled backwards and jabbed their wands forward only for Ron to pause and gasp, "It's my Dad's car!"

"What?" Draco demanded, confused and not quite sure what a car even was.

The only reply Ron gave in response was a quick, "Come on!"

They stumbled and tripped their way through the bramble until they came to a clearing nearby. Vlad stared in astonishment as a turquoise car stood in the area, slowly rolling forward at the sight of the redhead like a pet. Scratches lined its paint and one of the windows was broken, but otherwise the vehicle seemed functional and strangely alive.

"It's been here the whole time!" Ron laughed in delight. "And we thought it was something dangerous!"

"You're kidding me," Draco muttered in exasperation. "You used this thing to get to Hogwarts and you didn't know where it even went?"

"Let's get in. Maybe the car can help us."

But then Vlad spotted something shift in the shadows beyond the clearing and he shouted, "Get in!" He didn't wait for the others to comprehend why he was in such a sudden panic and the young vampire shoved the three boys in front of him towards the car. He had barely opened one of the back doors in time for Draco and Harry to scramble in before the thing jumped to the roof of the automobile.

Vlad didn't have time to run away before a fierce clicking noise erupted from the thing's sharp pincers and he noted with terror that it had eight enormous legs holding its black abdomen up. He was the only one not in the car and he lurched backwards in an attempt to run only for something long and hairy to grasp his middle and lift him up.

The clearing was a sudden cacophony of Ron's yelling, Harry's shouting, Draco's attempts at opening the car door to help, the gigantic spider's clicking, and Vlad's own cries. As the Malfoy heir finally managed to get back out, Vlad was already being carried back into the blackness of the woods and further up into the canopy.

His voice abruptly left him as the light from the car dimmed the further he was carried. He shivered in the creature's grasp and they moved swiftly through the trees and into the woods. Vlad had to try very hard not to imagine how this was going to end and instead hoped that the other three boys had the sense not to follow. Follow the spiders – what sort of warped advice was that? The longer the spider traveled, the more Vlad began to hear several other clicks surround him, the forest coming to life with massive spiders the size of wagons following the same path. Enormous webs began to line the trunks of the trees and soon, the young vampire could see a giant, misty, domed web ahead of them. The spiders around him began to become excited, clicking more ferociously and several turning their eight eyes towards the load his captor held.

Vlad was not necessarily a stranger to large arachnids. A lot of vampires had enormous tarantulas for pets and his own father had owned one once before Renfield had killed it accidentally (or maybe not so accidentally after it had tried to eat the servant). But he had never seen ones of this size and he was horrified to learn that he had never read about them before.

When they finally arrived before the gigantic web, the largest one by far, the spider holding him with two of its legs dropped heavily down to the floor of the forest and spoke. It was hard for Vlad to distinguish what it was saying because of the clicks and pincers drowning out the words. But he managed to make out, "Aragog! Aragog!"

Vlad hadn't thought the spiders could get much larger. But what emerged from the shadowy corner of the web was more likely to be an elephant it was so enormous. Some gray lined the black hairs on its legs and body, and all eight eyes were pierced with milky white. It was blind, but clearly the head of the entire nest and no less deadly with its pincers at least twice the size of the rest of the spiders.

It took a lot of Vlad's control to remain calm and at least functional.

"What is it?" the gigantic creature clicked in a gravelly tone. "I was resting."

"Men!"

The large spider leant forwards as if to analyze Vlad and it unnerved the young vampire how the thing knew where to lean despite its blindness. It stayed in that position for a moment before hissing violently and retreating back. "Drop it!"

The spider's tone was so intense that the one holding Vlad immediately released its hold upon him and he fell heavily on his hands and knees. He winced at the impact and tried not to focus on the tendrils of sticky web attached to him.

"That is no man! It is a monster greater than ourselves!"

It was horrifying to hear such a large creature sound nervous of a small student barely the size of one of its pincers. Vlad knew for a fact that those weapons could easily crush him. But it made his stomach drop and his insides freeze in loathing to hear himself described in such a way. Here it was again. Like he could never really escape it for very long.

"What is it, what is it?" the spiders in the vicinity all clicked, shifting away from Vlad. "What is it?"

"I'm a friend!" the young vampire quickly blurted. He knew that fear, too much fear, often lead to drastic actions. He had to try to calm this situation down now that he seemed to have the upper hand. "A friend of Hagrid's!" Which wasn't strictly true, per se, but Vlad was willing to say anything if it meant getting out alive.

"Hagrid has never brought any other creatures when he visited," Aragog said slowly.

"He's in trouble. That's why he sent me."

"In trouble?" And for a moment, Vlad could detect some worry in the giant spider's clicks. "But why did he send you?"

Vlad decided against standing up to address the audience before him. He wasn't so sure he would be steady on his feet. "They think Hagrid opened the Chamber again. They think he's set the Basilisk on them –"

Aragog erupted in nervous clicking and the rest of the spiders echoed it like some twisted symphony. "We do not speak of the creature! We do not say its name! It was years and years ago when they thought he had killed the girl, raised me and killed the girl. But I respected Hagrid's warnings to me and I had never harmed a single child in that castle. When they discovered me, he helped me hide in the Forest and even gave me a wife, Morag. And now you see I have lived here for many years with my growing family."

"So – so you did know it was a Basi –"

"Do not speak of it!" Aragog spat, shifting anxiously and furiously. "Of course I knew! I could sense it moving, living within the castle! I tried to tell Hagrid but he never understood what I was trying to say, that it was too dangerous to stay."

The rest of Aragog's family was moving now, closing in ever so slowly. Vlad didn't miss their movements and he was quickly trying to figure a way out despite his heart hammering in his ribs.

"Thank you," Vlad said with as much composure as he could muster in the situation. "That will help Hagrid. I think I can just…"

"Go?" Aragog chuckled hoarsely. "But I do not think so. You see, it would not be right of me to deny my sons and daughters a meal. And poisonous of a creature you might be, you are a very rare feast if we prepare you properly…I have never tasted one of your kind before and surely none will miss you if you never leave to speak of this…"

Vlad's magic reacted at the complete panic that overwhelmed him at those words and without his conscious decision, a small blast of energy had swept away the spiders closest to him.

It was as if that had flipped a switch and all of a sudden, countless spiders swarmed from the trees and from the shadows to converge upon the young vampire in front of them. Vlad knew it was hopeless to try and fight them off. So he turned and ran for his life.

By blood and garlic, what wouldn't he give to know how to Apparate or travel as quickly as his father did right now. He could hear the sea of clicks at his heels and he was so engrossed in the ground beneath his feet in an effort not to die by something as silly as tripping that he hardly registered when forest floor turned into something a lot more industrialized.

"Go, go!" Harry was shouting at Ron from shotgun.

Vlad was a confused tangle of limbs as Draco gripped his arm and it was only when the blond Slytherin had slammed the door to keep out the spiders that he realized he had run straight into the back seat of the car they had found earlier that night. They had apparently been waiting for him and a tiny part of him not occupied by his brush with death was astonished.

Ron's car was screeching as it thundered through the forest, shoving aside long legs and pincers. It was like a rain of slams and lunges from the spiders as they sped away, each and every one of Aragog's family trying to get a piece of the meal before them. The one window that was broken occasionally had one of the creatures clambering in, but Draco would promptly cast them out with a spell.

It took ten minutes of frantic driving on the car's part and their combined efforts to keep spiders out of the open window before there were no more after them and they were at the very border of the Forbidden Forest, the castle in view. The vehicle stopped so abruptly Harry and Ron nearly ran their heads into the windshield and the doors opened without any prompting.

The boys climbed out and the Gryffindors managed to pat the car affectionately before it rumbled away and back into the woods.

"I am going to kill that oaf," Draco snarled as they slowly made their way back. "Follow the spiders.  _Follow the spiders._ Load of bloody crap if I've ever heard it. We're lucky to be alive! We're lucky we found Vlad in time otherwise he would be an Acromantula's meal by now!" At the three blank stares, he scowled and threw his hands in the air. "The spiders! They're Acromantula! The most poisonous and dangerous arachnids in the world!"

"We're really sorry," Harry conceded with a tired sigh, though it was more directed towards Vlad than Draco. "We tried to follow you once the spider took you, but the trees got too thick and we only finally managed to see you when you were running away."

But Vlad was already beyond that. "It's alright. You guys saved me and that's what mattered. But my getting caught – that wasn't a complete loss. I can tell you guys, for sure now, that the monster of the Chamber we're dealing with is a Basilisk. And that Tom, the diary, was lying to Harry."

Draco frowned. "That's great, Vlad, but are you okay? Were you hurt? We have to take you to the Infirmary to make sure."

"No. I'm fine. Really."

And he really was. For the first time in weeks, Vlad felt like they were finally getting somewhere.

* * *

 

**Till next time!**


	33. The Heir of Slytherin

**Chapter 33: The Heir of Slytherin**

The following days passed like a blur. Vlad remembered a little bit of dismay here when it had been announced that of course they were still expected to sit for exams and a bit of relief there when Madame Pomfrey had deemed the Mandrakes to be ready for use. But his mind still lingered on the Chamber, wondering when the Basilisk would strike next or if they even had to worry about it at all anymore. Nothing had happened for a period of time now, but the same thing had occurred before and the diary was still at large.

Draco was just as occupied and it was obvious when he slowed down his reading of  _A Snake's Tongue._ Nowadays, he was just a silent as his friend and whatever issue he had with attention and recognition before had taken a severe backseat. Vlad wasn't the only one who noticed this and the rest of Slytherin House took it as one the Malfoy heir's phases. Crabbe and Goyle, though, had long since abandoned their near-servile attitude towards Draco. Ever since the blond boy had ceased his attentions towards them, they had retreated to their own company.

It wasn't something the young vampire was quite sure about. On one hand, it was a good thing for Draco to see the bigger picture. But on the other, Vlad was beginning to wonder if he had somehow placed his friend in some pre-teen crisis. The Malfoy heir had a sort of breakdown a few days previous and it worried the vampire how this would ultimately end. They hadn't spoken about it – partially because Draco hadn't brought it up and partially because Vlad had no idea how to go about it.

So he put his efforts into other things. And only when Professor McGonagall announced one morning that Headmaster Dumbledore would be returning did the young vampire drag himself out of his own mire and hope that maybe things had been fixed. Draco's father had been fairly adamant about the Headmaster's expulsion and only something drastic would reverse such a decision. Something as drastic as fixing the problem of the Chamber of Secrets.

Vlad quickly stood up once the announcement was finished and rushed through the halls towards the studying rooms where Draco was probably still lingering. His friend had not been there to hear the news and the vampire figured this was something the Malfoy heir would want to know.

On his way up, however, a smaller form brushed by him and although it had hardly been any different from any other passing student, Vlad's eyes lingered upon the long red hair adorning the girl's head. She was small, a First Year, visibly upset, and very familiar. Vlad was sure he had stumbled into her before.

His confusion was quickly cleared away when another, taller form that Vlad recognized as Percy Weasley went pursuing the girl. He was calling after her, saying something about how they needed to talk. But it was when he said her name that Vlad's mind finally processed the information.

 _Ginny Weasley_. The very same girl he had run into months ago in the halls and had made her spill her books by accident. And it had seemed so inconsequential then, so miniscule a detail that Vlad had brushed aside. But now he remembered with horrifying clarity: one of the books she had angrily snatched out of his hands had been inscribed with T. M. Riddle.

Vlad was running after the two Weasleys before he had consciously made the decision to do so. He had lost them to a turn while he had been registering the magnitude of what he had realized, but he was threading his way around students and almost shoving some aside in an attempt to catch up.

He was begging to whatever gods or goddesses were out there that he was wrong. But if he was right, then he knew who had raided Harry's trunk days ago and who had been petrifying students all year. Ginny Weasley hardly seemed the type to actively choose to attack the people around her. From what he had seen, she could hardly stand up to her own brothers. It had to be the diary and Vlad was wondering what on earth had prompted Lucius Malfoy to set such a thing loose on the minds of children.

To Vlad's dismay, he couldn't spot any red amongst the heads of the students and his stomach bubbled with anxiety. Where would a distraught girl go? People that upset and that shy usually retreated to a safe place, a place they could be alone…

It was a good thing the Slytherins had made a point of learning where all of the other Houses' dormitories resided. It wasn't broadcasted knowledge, but you tended to hear things in a House where information was key regardless of their secrecy.

When Vlad made it to the Fat Lady's portrait, he shifted the strap of his bag to cover his House crest and slipped off the tie around his neck. Black hair was a normal feature in most students at the school and if he kept his head down and his hair in his face, the portrait shouldn't notice anything different. He waited a few agonizing minutes before a group of Third Year Gryffindors came up the stairs and said the password, "Wizbees."

Once the entrance was open, he slipped in after the boys. They were busy speaking amongst themselves so it was simple enough. The real problem came when he found himself standing in the Common Room.

It was almost strange to be there and to see how different it was from the Slytherin one. The windows opened up to open sky rather than the slightly green-blue hue the Black Lake caused. Red and gold adorned all of the furniture and the roaring fire in the hearth was the regular red orange flame normally produced. It lacked the bookshelves and studying tables that Slytherin had, but instead there were several couches and comfortable chair placed in convenient places to sit and talk to work. Everything embraced camaraderie to a degree and Vlad found himself wondering what it would be like to spend an evening here. The remnants of some of the Weasley twins' prank products scattered around the room indicated it was probably anything but dull.

Vlad tore his eyes away from the room and eyed the two open doorways on either side of him. He could reason enough that one was for the boys and another for the girls, and after watching the group of Gryffindors turn towards the left entrance, he knew enough to determine where Ginny Weasley's rooms would be. Quickly glancing around to make sure he was alone and that nobody else was entering at the moment, Vlad swiftly stepped through the right doorway and saw that it opened up to a spiral staircase.

The young vampire was perhaps two steps up when the stone beneath his feet turned slick and he was gasping in shock. It took him a moment to realize that the stairs had turned into a slide, making it impossible to walk up. He stared blankly for a moment before scowling and realizing that boys were most likely not allowed up to the female lodgings. There was no such rule in Slytherin, but almost everybody was in the habit of protecting themselves anyway and did not need something like this.

How was he going to reach Ginny now? He wrestled with his thoughts for a second before taking a calming breath and thinking he only needed to wait for her. Surely she couldn't do much in her room and if she did indeed have the diary, she would have to leave Gryffindor Tower before doing anything.

Vlad tugged his bag more securely around his shoulders and stood up from where he had fallen, intent upon making his way out through the portrait before anybody noticed he was there.

Then, he froze as he caught sight of little Ginny Weasley observing at him from further up the stairs.

"Hello, Vlad," she smiled sweetly.

~0~

Vlad opened his eyes with a gasp.

When he saw Ginny's freckled nose not an inch away from his own, he jolted in shock and sat up before pushing himself away from her. His eyes watched her warily, searching her for any sign of danger. Then, when it was clear that she was unconscious, the young vampire scanned his surroundings.

Vlad was sitting at the end of a long chamber. The lighting was dim, similar to that of the Slytherin dormitories and lit only by a few torches perched at the top of the serpentine pillars holding the cavity up. They towered above him, reaching up into dark crevices where no light touched and they cast long, deep shadows on the floor. Vlad could dimly see a sort of wall at the other end of the cavern that he assumed was the entrance. At the end where he was, there was a tall statue twice the size of any man dressed in sweeping robes with a thin beard reaching the wizard's feet. He looked ancient and worn in his expression, something Vlad hadn't been expecting when imagining the man who had founded his House.

The young vampire knew without a doubt that the statue was of Salazar Slytherin and he was under no delusions that he wasn't in the famed Chamber of Secrets.

"You're rather calm, aren't you?"

Vlad turned and realized that he had missed the form leaning against the nearest pillar during his first cursory look around the room. He could see why; not only was the figure partially in the many shadows that darkened the chamber, but the edges of it – or rather, him – seemed blurred like looking at a fogged window.

Looking closely, Vlad could see that the person was a boy, perhaps no older than sixteen. He had neatly cut black hair and dark eyes to match, his mouth twisted into something of a smirk. The robes he wore held the crest of Slytherin on it.

"Hello, Tom," Vlad replied as calmly as he could keep his tone. It was incredibly difficult to do when his mind was whirling at the situation. Having had a diary-controlled Ginny send a spell at him being his last memory, it wasn't difficult to realize how he had gotten here. But why to the Chamber? Why not have him petrified to keep him silent on what he knew?

"You're strange," was all Tom said. "You are the first person to actually choose to break the connection I make with those who write in my diary."

"Because I didn't trust you. And I suppose it's a good thing I didn't."

"And yet you're still stuck down here in the Chamber of Secrets despite it, aren't you? But you've been clever, I give you that. Even warning Harry Potter, the one person I've wanted to meet most…"

Vlad glared and clenched his fists. "Why Harry? What makes him so interesting?"

"I have so many questions for him," the phantom that was Tom Riddle smiled coldly. "Like how had something as pathetic as a baby had managed to kill Lord Voldemort. How had a baby escaped with only a scar while the greatest wizard of his time perished?"

"What does that even matter? You're not –"

And that was where Vlad stopped because…because why couldn't Tom Riddle be Voldemort? Just because he couldn't imagine the Dark Lord being nothing more than a student once upon a time didn't mean it was impossible. Witches and wizards of England were taught in only one place and how else had Voldemort learned to control his magic before terrorizing the known magical world with it?

"Yes," Tom breathed, his voice dripping with satisfaction for he must have recognized the realization and disbelief on Vlad's face. "Yes, Voldemort is my past, present, and future. Why would I, the heir to the great Salazar Slytherin, chain myself to a filthy  _common_  name like Tom? Why would I choose to cling to my filthy Muggle father's name that my weak witch of a mother plastered on to me as she lay dying?" There was something of a manic glint in Tom's eyes now. "No. I was destined for greater things and I had to have a name to suit it."

It was as if the entity from the diary was enamored with himself and Vlad couldn't help but wonder how the guy even fit his head through the entrance to the Great Hall during his years at Hogwarts.

"You're awfully quiet," Tom mused, finally focused on the matter at hand. "But it is perhaps a wise choice considering you're at the disadvantage." The phantom laughed and twirled a wand – Ginny's wand – in his hand. "Or perhaps not. You see, Ginny loved to write to me. She used to write to me everyday. That is how I learned of the great Harry Potter and then I heard about you: the only student in all of Hogwarts who has no use for a wand."

As Tom spoke, Vlad's eyes tried to catch anything to help, anything to help him out of this situation. He was getting that panicked feeling in his chest again. It was a feeling the young vampire hadn't forgotten from his first brush with death and it was becoming an awfully familiar habit of his to find himself in situations that engendered such a sick emptiness within him. To his horrible relief, however, he had caught sight of Riddle's diary in the corner of his eyes, right behind the Slytherin statue. If he could just distract Tom long enough…

It didn't seem to be much of a problem though, distracting the older boy. He was doing a fine job keeping himself busy. "I hadn't planned to pursue it at first," Riddle was saying. "You were an anomaly. Something I could deal with later once I'd taken enough from Ginny to have a body of my own. But then imagine my surprise when you began to write. It was disappointing, really, that you recognized what I was so soon."

"What are you planning?" Vlad asked in return. "You're almost solid now. What will happen to Ginny?"

Tom chuckled lowly. "I'm not foolish, Vlad. Ginny will learn what it is like to live trapped within a diary. It requires an exchange, you see. You can't truly destroy it without the proper tools." The boy eyed Vlad carefully. "You know, I recognize a fellow Slytherin when I see one and I can respect that. And it is because I respect it, that I need to dispose of you." He smiled sweetly. "No hard feelings."

"Why bring me all the way down here, then? Why not kill me with the Basilisk when you caught me with Ginny?"

"Oh, so you do know about the Basilisk," the older Slytherin smiled, all teeth. "Good. I am proud my House has not fallen too much. But you see, the time for questions is over and –"

A loud, snapping noise, similar to that of multiple locks opening at the same time stopped Tom from finishing. His dark eyes flashed to the entrance at the other end of the Chamber and Vlad let out a shaky breath of relief. Perhaps the professors had found this place after all. Maybe he was going to be saved and he wouldn't be dying down here all alone with a First Year Gryffindor he had barely spoken to and a younger version of Voldemort.

Vlad's stomach dropped to his feet, though, when he saw who  _did_  come stumbling through.

"Well, look who's come to join us," Tom laughed mirthlessly. "Harry Potter and his…friends."

Vlad would have expected something like this from Harry. He wouldn't have been surprised if Ron had done the same. But for Draco to come walking through that entrance right behind the other two – hair askew and robes completely filthy – had probably required the end of the very world as they knew it. The young vampire's eyes widened at the sight of the other Slytherin.

The three seemed stunned for a bit as they took in the Chamber. But then their eyes caught sight of Vlad sprawled on the floor at the opposite end and they all gasped before running towards him. The young vampire wanted to shout at them for being so stupid and that they should get away while they had the chance. But it would be fruitless to do so now with Tom eagerly watching, wand in hand.

Ron immediately went to his sister's side. His mouth was agape in horror at her paper-white complexion and he grasped her face, asking, "Ginny, Ginny! Wake up!"

Draco grasped Vlad's arm instead when he caught up and jerked his friend around to inspect him carefully. "You're okay?"

Harry, on the other hand, had already spotted Tom's form a few feet away.

"Harry Potter," the phantom purred. "Who knew that you would invite yourself here?"

Ever the Gryffindor, the Boy-Who-Lived spat back, "Of course we came. When we found the message on the wall, 'their skeletons will lie in the Chamber forever', we weren't going to let you get away with this."

"Foolish. But noble." Tom seemed more pleased with every passing second. "And I see you brought a Malfoy with you."

Draco jerked at the mention of his name and watched Tom wearily. He remained silent.

As if answering some unspoken question, the diary's entity supplied, "I would recognize anybody related to Abraxas. But clearly, you've chosen the losing side."

There was something inscrutable in Draco's eyes now, but the moment had passed. Tom turned back to Harry with a sneer. "Tell me, Harry Potter, how  _did_  you survive that night? When you bested Lord Voldemort."

Harry frowned in confusion. "I – I don't…I don't know. My mother died to save me."

The older Slytherin pursed his lips and tutted. "So nothing special about you? I had wondered. We are similar after all. Both of us halfbloods, raised by Muggles, both the only Parselmouths since Slytherin himself…we even look a bit alike perhaps. But it was nothing but chance. That's all I wished to know."

"What?"

"Let us see how you fare against me, the Heir to Hogwarts' greatest Founder," Tom was already saying. "Let us see how you survive this…the Boy-Who-Lived."

And then the boy who would some day grow up to be Voldemort turned towards the enormous statue of Slytherin and hissed.

Vlad was too concerned about other things to translate what Riddle was saying. All he knew was that it could not be anything good. And from the way something colossal was coming out of an opening in the statue's mouth, it was the Basilisk – King of the Serpents.

Ron, it seemed, was already on his feet and shouting, "Run, Harry! It's you it wants!"

The two Gryffindors were scrambling away back from where they had come to put more distance between themselves and the Basilisk. But Vlad lost sight of them as they took an abrupt turn between one of the pillars further away and disappeared. He only had a split second to wonder where before he was lurching to his feet and dragging Draco with him out of the way of the Basilisk's gargantuan body.

"Close your eyes," Vlad whispered urgently.

"I know that," Draco spat back equally quietly.

They hurried behind one of the pillars and pressed their bodies against it, hearing Tom scream something furiously in Parseltongue. Both of them didn't dare to breathe as the creature stole its way past them and pursued what it could smell of Harry and Ron. It didn't make it very far before a piercing cry echoed throughout the Chamber.

Vlad dared to open his eyes this time and quickly glance around the pillar. "It's Fawkes!"

"Who the bloody what?" Draco hissed. "Close your eyes, Dracula, and get back here!"

Horrible shrieks erupted from the Basilisk's throat not a moment later and Vlad fervently hoped that whatever Dumbledore's phoenix was doing, it was doing something to help. Like tearing out the great monster's throat. That would be great. Which was unrealistic to hope, of course, but a student could dream in a life-and-death situation.

Tom was shouting something again in Parseltongue and then the conflict between the two rare creatures dulled as they took it elsewhere, following after Harry and Ron.

Both Slytherins stood stock-still. When nothing seemed to move for a few minutes, Vlad took a deep breath and acted before he lost his nerve.

"Cover me, won't you?" the young vampire whispered swiftly in Draco's ear. He only had a second to savor the blond's dumbstruck face before he was jumping out from behind the pillar and making a mad dash for the diary.

This time, Draco seemed to make no effort to lower his voice while yelling angrily after his friend. But Vlad left the words go unheeded and when the first spell came shooting from Tom's wand, he smiled knowingly when a shielding charm protected him. The Malfoy heir had a bark more harmful than his bite.

Draco shouted viciously and the spell came a hair closer than Vlad would have liked, but it made Riddle block and thus added another second free for the young vampire to run. When the spell rebounded off Tom's shield, it hit the floor a ways away and shattered the stone.

Okay, perhaps Draco sometimes had a bite as bad as his bark.

Vlad narrowly dodged a sickly red spell aimed at his legs, but he shouted in triumph when his fingers closed around the little black book on the stone floor. He dashed around Slytherins' statue and hid there as Tom feverishly screeched, "No!"

The young vampire knew Draco, even trained from youth as he had been, wouldn't last long against Tom. Not at the level he was now. So he had to hurry and destroy the diary before something drastic happened. Vlad tried not to imagine what would happen if he couldn't do this on time. Desperately, he pressed his fingers to the cover of the book and sent the most destructive spell towards it in hopes of destroying it that way. The book glowed for a moment, seemingly threatening on the edge of explosion. But it quickly dimmed and Vlad shuddered in fear. He remembered how the fire back in the Slytherin Common Room hadn't been enough to hurt any of the book's pages. And admittedly, he didn't know many offensive spells. The one he had used clearly wasn't enough. If only he knew more…

A strangled gasp drew Vlad's attention away from the diary and he reeled around in fear. That had been Draco. He couldn't have his only friend hurt, not when they had just seemed to have things worked out. The young vampire was lurching around the statue and for a horrifying moment, watched his friend fall.

He breathed in relief a second later when Draco scrambled away from Tom. It wasn't ideal; red stained the ground where the blond was. But Vlad was glad that, for the moment, Draco was still breathing. Vlad had to focus on that rather than what might happen to the Malfoy heir if he didn't get treated soon.

Tom let Draco move away. Instead, he turned away from his distraction and focused his eyes upon Vlad's form. "Trying to destroy the diary is useless. You do not have the means to do so here."

The young vampire just clutched the diary all the tighter. But he didn't have a chance to reply before Harry and Ron came running back into the Chamber with the Basilisk in close pursuit.

The reptile was furious, from the way it was snarling and thrashing towards the two Gryffindors. It's eyes, Vlad noted with huge relief, were closed and bleeding – the work of Fawkes most likely. Ron and Harry seemed relatively unharmed, though, despite the grime now coating their robes and face. They were running for their lives and okay but from the way a terrifyingly pleased smile breached Riddle's face, that wouldn't last. The phantom burst into laughter as the Basilisk herded the two into a corner close to where Draco had retreated.

Tom crowed, "Look at the great hero run! Where is your greatness now, Harry Potter? You will die here and your friends with you."

Harry and Ron were too busy to even register the gloating. Instead, they were desperately escaping the Basilisk's fangs. Just as they were about to jump behind a pillar for momentary safety, Ron let out a startled gasp and slipped on something beneath his feet.

Harry, of course, stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Ron!" he shouted in fear. But the Weasley was already up and running with something in his hands, narrowly missing the Basilisk's lunge.

Now spitting in anger, the great creature reared back up and slammed its body against the column, destroying it and showering an avalanche of rocks down. The two Gryffindors were running again towards the next support in an effort to continuously slow down the Basilisk. Vlad noticed in cold terror that it was where Draco was crouched, injured and most likely unable to escape the great creature as easily.

The young vampire ran around the statue, diary in hand, ignoring the fact that Tom Riddle could easily curse him now that he was in the open. As far as he was concerned, Harry and Ron were leading a monster straight to Draco and he had to do something to help.

He was too late, though. By the time he was a few feet away, the Gryffindors had already reached the blond and the Basilisk was not far behind. Vlad saw how the three boys spoke rapidly amongst themselves, Harry pointing towards Draco's shoulder and reaching down as if to offer help. But Draco, always-proud Draco, shoved Harry's hand away. Quickly, the blond Slytherin glanced up at the enormous reptile now upon them and did something that proved to Vlad that Draco was more than just another name in the Malfoy family tree.

He leapt up and bodily  _thrust_ Harry and Ron out of the way.

Vlad froze as Draco's agonized cry echoed through the Chamber, the Basilisk's fangs embedded in his left arm. It was as if something within had ceased to operate and he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.

The two Gryffindors were shouting something, Ron waving about the object in his hands. Harry rushed back towards Draco as if there wasn't a lethal monster there and Ron was close behind a few moments later, reaching into the material in his grip and extracting a glittering sword. The redhead gaped a bit at the weapon his hands briefly, but moved and forcibly stabbed it into the Basilisk.

It was finally Riddle's cackle of laughter behind Vlad that drew him out of his daze.

"Don't you see how fruitless this is? The Malfoy child is only the first of you all!"

Rage, horrible all-consuming rage, tore through Vlad's veins like a fire and he whirled upon the phantom responsible for all of this. "What have you done!"

"He only deserved it," Tom smiled ruthlessly. "He chose the wrong side."

The wrong side. Draco now had near-incurable poison killing him because he was on the wrong side. All his life, the blond had been indirectly told by the great masses that he and his loved ones were one of the "bad guys." The guys who went around and terrorized people. Now he was on the wrong side again because, for the first time in his life, Draco had done something everybody around him hadn't expected him to do. He had finally broken the trap of an image he had always encompassing him and in his dying moments, he was being told that he was  _on the wrong side_?

Vlad was so sick of this. What right did anybody have to impose something so large upon boys who were barely twelve? Harry was the savior of the wizarding world. Draco was the heir to an infamously influential family. Ron, for all of his seemingly regular traits, was the son of a pureblood family. They had all been labeled from birth and Vlad had always known how stifling it was to be expected to be something he was not.

Red tinged his vision and his hands shook. He couldn't think, he could barely _breathe._ And at this point, he wasn't sure if it was because his friend was dying and his would-be killer was laughing or because it was something else entirely.

But he had to do something. He had spent so long waiting, thinking things through, analyzing everything he could. But now he just had to  _do_  and deal with the consequences later.

Perhaps it was because of his ancestry, his family's line and their instincts that drove him. Vampires were violent creatures at their core and ultimately, when they were cornered and fighting, their greatest weapons were always their fangs.

Vlad just wanted to watch somebody hurt and Tom Riddle was going to  _burn_.

When he bit down on the diary, it was like slipping his teeth into butter and the taste that followed was better than anything he had ever experienced before.

It was like he could taste Riddle's fear, taste the surprise and absolute agony that lanced through the phantom. There was a tang of lingering victory and sweetness that expressed whatever joy Tom had felt previously. It was a flood of emotion, experiences, and everything that was Tom Riddle and Vlad had never known anything like it. He swallowed it feverishly, desperate to gather every single drop.

The entire time, Vlad watched Tom scream words he couldn't hear over his vicious satisfaction, collapse, and slowly fade as if he had never existed. Watching the phantom's anguish and terror completed it all. He had to see it on the other's face and  _see_. Like art because Vlad knew only he had ever made such things cross Tom Riddle's expression.

The young vampire remained there, in a haze of his own euphoria and entirely content for, perhaps, the first time in his life.

It ended entirely too soon. A hand settled upon his shoulder and Vlad turned around, growling, only to realize that it was Harry.

The look on the Gryffindor's face was what immediately sobered him. There was relief, but there was also something akin to confusion and fear there as well. It was a look Vlad had always feared somebody would give him and now it was actually happening. The young vampire hastily dropped the diary in his hands and jumped a bit when he realized that a black liquid oozed from the book, oozed from teeth marks lining its cover. He tried to wipe off whatever of it remained on his hands and didn't look at Harry again.

"Um…you…have a bit on your chin," was all the Gryffindor said.

Instinctively, Vlad stuck his tongue out to lick whatever it was away and shuddered when it sent a thrill of pleasure through him. He felt sick and was trying very hard not to imagine what he must look like now for his own sanity.

The young vampire looked up suddenly and anxiously asked, "Where is Draco? Where is the Basilisk?" Incredibly, he had forgotten what had been happening around him and it made him feel all the more horrible.

"Draco is fine," Harry supplied. "Fawkes came down and cried where he had been bitten and it was healed in seconds. And the Basilisk…" The Boy-Who-Lived glanced to their right and Vlad followed his line of sight.

"It's…dead?" Vlad asked incredulously. "Did you do it?"

"Ron did," Harry smiled with a twist to his lips. "You saw when he pulled out the sword from the Sorting Hat, right? When he stabbed the Basilisk while it was biting Draco, it hurt it enough for him to continue attacking. I tried to help with a few spells here and there but it was really Ron who got it through the eye. He sort of knocked out, though, when he hit his head against the floor when the Basilisk fell."

Vlad blinked at that. Who would have guessed? Ron the Basilisk slaying hero. Then he remembered that Harry had seen everything and stuttered, "I – I –"

"We should try and get out of here first," the Gryffindor said instead. "I don't want to stay down here any longer than we need to." He paused and caught Vlad's eye. "But we'll talk later, okay?"

* * *

**What do you know I actually got a chapter out before a month passed. Hopefully I'll keep it up, but it'll probably be different once college picks up. It's been so different moving out and everything.**

**Till next time!**


	34. Unwinding

** Chapter 34: Unwinding **

"Oh, my boy!"

It wasn't often Count Dracula initiated contact. In fact, the number of times he had done so in his 608 years of life could probably be counted on one hand. Initiating contact was a sign of lower standing in a vampire's world or (even worse) a sign of affection.

But today was clearly an exception.

"Hi Dad," Vlad managed to reply with a small smile while simultaneously trying to understand why his father had his hands clasped around his son's shoulders.

The elder vampire was beaming. "I heard the news. It seems you helped take down a Basilisk?"

After Fawkes had taken them back out of the Chamber of Secrets, things had happened in a blur. Vlad had gotten a five-second introduction to the Weasley clan before they took off with Ron and Ginny to the Hospital Wing. He and Harry both had barely managed to explain the situation to the Headmaster and their respective Heads of Houses, mutually neglecting to mention how exactly the diary had been destroyed. Madame Pomfrey had promptly subjected them to whole-body examinations complete with sleeping potions and worried fussing. Professor Sprout had completed the Mandrake Root cure for the petrified, leading to a many panicked questions from Hermione. And by the next morning, the entire school had spread at least five different stories of what had happened involving Harry Potter yet again.

It was a whirlwind that left Vlad feeling simultaneously overwhelmed and relieved. The Chamber had been closed, students would no longer be threatened, and the school year would soon be over. Yet, there were so many things left unresolved. What was happening to him? What was he supposed to tell Harry? What exactly had it meant to find something of Voldemort two years in a row? His fear of his future as a vampire had only grown and now he had begun to fear that the wizarding world was not quite so safe an alternative. The young vampire couldn't stop himself from checking in the mirror every chance he could to make sure he hadn't grown a set of fangs and that his eyes were still a normal dark color. He had often thought quietly to himself that he wasn't violent and had often rechecked his mind for any inclination to wreak havoc.

So many questions and fears that Vlad couldn't answer or quell.

One, at least, managed to answer itself. As Vlad and Harry lay beside each other in the Hospital Wing finally alone one night, Harry had simply said that the explanation for what Vlad had done and who he really was could take its time. It wasn't too important according to the Gryffindor. After all, it only mattered that Vlad had tried to stop Voldemort and had done nothing to hurt anybody.

"Just promise you'll talk to me and tell me about it eventually," Harry had said. "And I'll talk to you about my uncle like I should have done last summer."

And that had been that. It had baffled – and still baffled – Vlad that it was all the other boy had needed. It hadn't mattered to Harry that the Slytherin lying next to him could suck the life out of another being. Vlad hadn't quite decided yet whether it was out of kindness, ignorance, sheer stupidity, or all three.

The school year came to a quiet end once the petrified students were back and the panic gone. The only notable things left of the year had been final exams, something Vlad actually managed to make it through, and Mr. Malfoy's visit.

Draco had been kept in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the year, longer than the rest of the troupe who had gone down into the Chamber. It was something the blond boy had argued against; what could heal him better than phoenix tears? But Madame Pomfrey had insisted that they be cautious and watch for any side effects. As a result, Draco frequently demanded that Vlad visit to quell the boredom.

It was during one such visit that Draco's father came. The school's administration had agreed that what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets would remain exactly that to the public: secret. But for the families whose children had been involved in facing Tom Riddle, Professor Dumbledore had sent personal letters explaining everything. Less than a few hours after the owls had been sent, Lucius Malfoy appeared at the school's gates.

Vlad hadn't known the man was coming. Otherwise, he would have left father and son to be alone. But it was just his luck that Mr. Malfoy had deemed to have such opportune timing.

There was something to be said in the elder Malfoy's eyes when he had walked in. He was as composed as ever, not a hair out of place or any sense of rush or worry. But it was in the way the wizard's glance flickered about the large wing, searching for his son, that told Vlad this was a man who still cared. It was something normally missed, but the young vampire had spent far too long with a father even more unreadable than Mr. Malfoy not to notice.

The moment Draco's father had caught sight of Vlad sitting beside his now-sleeping son, the older wizard's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

The young vampire had tried not to let the reaction affect him. "I'm visiting Draco, sir. I'm just –"

"Spare me the drivel. If it hadn't been for you, my son would not be here."

Vlad couldn't say he had been surprised by the man's anger. He had known it was true. If it hadn't been for him, Draco would not have followed Harry or Ron down into the Chamber in the first place. In fact, the Slytherin probably wouldn't have even considered sneaking around in the night and getting involved in things none of them understood. Yes, Vlad understood that much of this had been his fault. But he would not let a man who had unleashed a sentient diary upon a school full of children lecture him.

"I'm sorry," Vlad had simply replied, trying to keep his own anger in check for Draco's sake. It had been difficult already to control his emotions after the Chamber, and now it took so much to be calm.

"As you should be. Now leave." Then, the man had turned Madame Pomfrey and declared, "I will be taking my son home for the remainder of his care. Dobby!"

Vlad had expected a swift crack and the appearance of the elf who had brought Vlad so much grief during the school year. But when nothing happened, the young vampire had to fight the urge to laugh a little. Mr. Malfoy had looked equal parts silly and livid, but he had too much pride to pursue the issue and proceeded to summon a different house elf.

It wasn't until the students were being filed into the Hogwarts Express several days later, when Harry found some time alone to talk to Vlad, that the young vampire learned Dobby had been unknowingly given his freedom. Mr. Malfoy had visited the headmaster's office first, where Harry had been. The Gryffindor had confronted the older wizard to give him the diary with a sock inside, which the man had promptly handed to his accompanying elf before striding off to the Hospital Wing. Apparently, the elder wizard had not looked behind to see Dobby taking out his key to freedom with awestruck eyes.

The concept had seemed strange to Vlad. He knew that house elves enjoyed helping wizards and serving to the best of their ability. It was just in their nature. But perhaps such innate tendencies did not carry over in always the same way. The young vampire decided not to mention to Harry that while Mr. Malfoy had lost his elf, perhaps Harry had unofficially gained one. Vlad knew from personal experience how easily Dobby was enraptured with kindness.

Their exchange had not been long; Harry's friends might have new views on Vlad, but that did not mean they had been at all comfortable with it yet. In the end, news of Dobby and the agreement to keep in contact over the summer were all they had managed to share and agree on before their respective crowds pulled them away. Without Draco on board, Vlad had spent the remainder of the trip sitting amongst his Housemates and trying valiantly to avoid their questions.

Which brought the young vampire back to the present.

"I have to say I'm so proud of you," his father was saying. "Our family line has had so many of us conquer beasts to our whim. But we've never had somebody defeat a Basilisk before!"

"Dad, I'm not the one who took down the Basilisk."

"But you faced one, didn't you?" the Count exclaimed. "Same thing!"

Vlad smiled a little more at the familiarity of his father's silly pride and rolled his eyes. It was comforting to fall back into this world, before he had heard another voice in his head when facing a mirror and before he had destroyed a ghost of a dark wizard. "Okay, Dad."

"I have to say though, defeating a diary of all things sounds anticlimactic in comparison but I personally love cursed objects. I can't wait to tell your Uncle Ivan when he comes!"

"Dad, I really don't think you should –" Vlad paused as his father's sentence sunk in before his eyes widened in surprise. "I have an uncle?"

"Funny, your sister said the same thing. I'm sure I told you both about my brother." The elder vampire smiled, fangs and all, before grasping his son's arm. "He's coming this summer with your cousins!"

"Cousins?!"

It was the last thing Vlad managed to say before his father flitted away with him in tow, leaving behind Platform 9¾ and the wizarding world.

* * *

**This chapter was particularly slow and mostly closing for second year. But I do have quite a bit planned for the summer and I'll be introducing more of the vampire world. Very exciting :)**

**Thank you for reading and for continuing to read. I honestly appreciate all of the support and kind words and faith in a rather flighty writer.**

**Till next time!**


	35. Family Matters

**Chapter 35: Family Matters**

It wasn't easy settling into home again. Most nights found Vlad tossing in his sleep with nightmares of snakes and ghosts. He would wake screaming into his pillow or find his books flying about or tangle himself so fiercely into his sheets that he trapped himself. It was often bad enough that Nox and Zoltan had to wake him in the middle of the night to save the room from destruction by accidental magic. Once, Nox even had to change forms in order to stop his master. Needless to say, mornings found the trio exhaustedly grump with short tempers to accompany them. Nox and Zoltan often complained about it in their own ways, but never once did either of them choose to sleep anywhere else.

The rest of the inhabitants of the castle, however, were far more cheerful.

"I cannot wait to see that brother of mine," the Count crowed as Renfield served dinner. "It has been far too long."

Sometimes Vlad forgot how long-lived vampires were. So long were their lives that decades of time might pass in a blink. For Count Dracula, his children were barely beyond infancy and neglecting to inform them for years that they had cousins and uncles had most likely been an honest oversight. Even so, Vlad had found it astonishing to know that he had more family and Ingrid had found it less than amusing. Both of them had asked what to expect once their relatives arrived, but all their father could say was that his younger brother had been a bloodthirsty role model of a vampire and that he had never met the children.

It was due to this upcoming visit that Vlad had chosen not to go see Robin quite yet. If his friend knew that his vampire friend was back, Robin would no doubt try to become involved somehow. Surely, Vlad reasoned, his cousins would not stay too long and then he could attend summer school once again. Vampires often did not stay for very long when visiting another; they were nomadic creatures by nature and protective of what territory they did have.

Vlad took a spoonful of the dinner Renfield had prepared before turning to his father. "You won't go peasant hunting, will you?"

"Oh no, Vlad," the Count frowned. "What makes you believe I will deprive my brother of his favorite pastime while staying here?"

"Has the name Van Helsing stopped being a problem?"

"Quite frankly, yes," Ingrid scowled. "Nothing has happened so far."

"Precisely." The vampire patriarch stood from his seat and moved to observe the town below from one of the dining hall's massive windows. "I suppose we must thank you for that, my son. But while that problem has been temporarily neutralized, un-life has become so dull. A bit of hunting will not so tip the balance."

Vlad ran a hand over his face. Maybe back in the medieval times that his father was so fond of, a missing villager would not be so surprising. But in today's society, one missing or dead individual would be cause for alarm. But how was he going to stop his father and uncle both?

"Luckily for you, Vlad, your uncle will not be visiting for that reason," the Count supplied with a touch of distaste in his tone (whether it was in disappointment at the missed opportunity to spill blood or at his son's affection for breathers was up to interpretation). The vampire motioned towards his daughter. "You see, my brother's eldest is Ingrid's age."

For once, Vlad was confused. He turned towards his sister with his eyebrows raised.

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "You really are not fit to be a real vampire. I'm turning sixteen this year, remember? It means I must attend this year's Debut."

It took Vlad a moment to recall what the Debut was after the initial shock of realizing that his sister was actually nearly a fully realized vampire. He had spent so long away and so occupied with his thoughts that it had yet to strike him that this was the year he might lose the sister he knew now forever. It made something within him ache despite their clearly tumultuous relationship.

The Debut was something all vampires of nobility – whether they be of upper or lower standing – turning sixteen of that year attended in Transylvania. It was, in short, a way for the Council and the Royal Families to gain an impression of the new brood and to note those most likely to rise to power. It was also a perfect time for vampire families to reacquaint themselves in an environment where a guaranteed truce was in effect and perhaps solidify new or old alliances through betrothals. For the individual vampire debuting, it was one's chance to shine and determine their place amongst the majority for decades to come.

To Vlad, it was a load of toad's feet. Who came up with the brilliant idea that one single event could potentially ruin or make a vampire's place in society? And not to mention how pretentious the entire Debut was in and of itself. The majority of the vampiric population did not hold noble titles and no Half Fang would ever find the chance. It was a system that Vlad personally found stagnant. It was his idea of a complete nightmare, but it didn't take a genius to know that Ingrid was excited for the opportunity. This would be her chance to make her mark on the world, away from her father's sexist favoritism.

"Good luck," Vlad said with genuine sincerity in his voice. "I know you'll do amazing, Ingrid. Maybe bring me back a souvenir."

"What makes you think you won't be coming? It would not be appropriate if the entire family does not show." The Count turned his eyes towards his daughter, daring her to challenge him on the matter. "No matter what you believe, Ingrid."

It seemed like this was an old argument between the two. "But Vlad isn't even close to becoming a full vampire yet! He doesn't have to come! Let him stay here; he doesn't even want to see what our world is like. I don't understand why you keep pandering to him when he doesn't even care!"

"Silence!"

Ingrid pulled back, fury etched on every corner of her face.

"Your uncle will be bringing his younger as will all of the other families. This has been so for centuries. Do you expect to show up to your Debut with only a portion of your family present? The Council and the Families will think you are estranged and who would wish to ally themselves with you when you have no foundation to begin with?"

"Maybe it's true though," Vlad's sister spat, venom lacing her every word. "Since when did you support me? Since when did  _any_  of you support me? My own mother will not be there and if any of you come, it will be nothing but a farce."

Vlad felt guilt stab his chest as Ingrid spoke. It seemed that as the more time passed, the less faith she had in their family. It was something Vlad could not blame her for.

Their father's voice could freeze ice. "Your mother's name was struck from the Dracula tree when she left. And make no mistake, I am not going to the Debut for your sake. Without me or your brother present, you would never get any further than the lowest ranks and I cannot have such humiliation to our family line no matter how much you seem to enjoy the prospect of destroying your own future."

~0~

A couple of tense days following his family's argument, Vlad found himself standing in front of his room's mirror dressed in full robes and cape as the moon rose in the night sky. He shifted uncomfortably in it, wishing he had his Hogwarts uniform on rather than the elaborate vampire attire his father insisted they wear for their uncle's arrival. The black and red color scheme did little to erase the memories of his own growing signs of vampirism.

"I don't know why we must wear this," Vlad groaned to Nox and Zoltan. "My cousins are going to think I'm an idiot at our first meeting."

The castle was being playful today, shifting Vlad's reflection in the mirror to place enormously large glasses on his face and giant buck teeth sticking from his lips.

"Oh, very funny. This isn't helping." Their previous castle in Transylvania had been the same, autonomous at times and responding to its master's mood at others. It seemed that despite his father's quarrel with Ingrid, the Count was in a better mood today since his brother was scheduled to arrive at midnight. Their relatives would be staying a few days in the castle prior to the Debut, time the Count and his brother thought would be well spent in getting reacquainted with one another.

Vlad's thoughts were cut short when he heard his father's amplified voice summon him to the main foyer. The young vampire rolled his eyes at the call. He placed a hand on Zoltan's head as Nox leapt up to his master's shoulders. "Keep an eye on the castle while we're away, okay?"

"Of course, Master Vlad," the hound replied promptly. "I'll be sure to keep the servant in line too." Vlad gave his oldest friend a fond smile before swiftly heading down the stairs to meet his father and sister.

Ingrid was dressed in finer clothing, her hair and tailored robes perfected earlier in the evening when his father had requested the twins from  _Drusilla and Tessa's_  to personally come to their home. Fine ruby jewels adorned Ingrid's fingers and neck, but for all the beauty she had clearly inherited from her mother and father, seeing his sister dressed so made Vlad feel a little lost again. It seemed time was finally catching up to them and the young vampire would have to become used to seeing his sister in such finery more often.

Their father wasted no time, flitting all three of them to the local train station. Vlad, having experienced flitting several times already, only had to straighten his cloak a little upon arriving. But Ingrid's first time flitting left her a little breathless and green.

The station was empty except for the occasional fluttering piece of newspaper. It was near midnight, the moon still climbing towards its apex to provide a little light. Vlad could see as clearly as if it were day, but he noticed that his elder sister still had to squint just slightly to try to make out what was around them. Luckily, there wasn't much to see beyond the train tracks. There was only a fence and high grass fields with a large sign stating that this was the Stokely stop. Behind them, purchasing booths lined the entrance with gates blocking access to the tracks unless opened by a ticket. Several benches to rest on waited a little beyond the gates while several lamps lit the platform with low light.

Vlad's family had traveled to Stokely by car; he had not known traveling by train would have also been an option.

"The Underground Line carries all creatures of the dark," the Count said into the night air, answering Vlad's questions. "It is not how many vampires choose to travel, especially royalty like us. But sometimes it is necessary to do so when traveling across country borders."

"Where is Uncle coming from then?" Ingrid asked, now fully composed.

"America."

Vlad blinked. "Isn't that…an ocean away?"

The Count raised his eyebrows. "And that is why the Underground Line is necessary at times."

A sudden large electric spark on the railroad tracks stopped the conversation before it could get any further and more confusing. All three vampires turned their eyes down to watch as the metal began to glow red. Vlad could sense the energy coming from them and he wondered if this was going to be similar to the Knight Bus he heard some students at Hogwarts talk about. If yes, then it would only take a few seconds before –

_Bam!_

Ah, there it was. Vlad would have missed the train's instantaneous appearance and stop had he been blinking. It was a gigantic, grey thing seemingly dusty from age and if one looked closely enough, a sort of manic ghostly grin seemed to form from the engine car's front. An excess amount of steam poured from the chimney and gave the evening air a slightly more ominous touch.

"Children," the Count murmured to them as they strode to one of the car's doors. "Prepare to meet your Uncle: Ivan the Bloodthirsty." The door opened of its own accord, creaking open slowly as vampire doors were ought to do.

Vlad wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting to see. Perhaps something out of Romanian antiquity like his own father. But the man who came striding out seemed built differently. He was bulkier than the Count, more physically strong in appearance and his brown hair cut short with a rough shave. The vampire before them was taller, in a dark cloak as well but with a jacket underneath that seemed to reflect a sort of rebellious attitude. Uncle Ivan was powerful, but Vlad sensed that the man perhaps not quite as magically gifted as his elder brother.

"Brother." The vampire emerged from the train with a slight smile to his lips and a gravelly voice that suited his stature. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Vlad's father inclined his head ever so slightly. "Likewise."

"Allow me to introduce my children. My youngest: Olga."

A petite young girl, younger than Vlad, stepped out in a dark blue dress that stopped just beneath her knees and a smaller cloak to cover her shoulders. Her dark brown hair matched her father's, but her cherubic face made her seem almost innocent. She bowed once towards the Count. "Your Grace."

Ivan nodded briefly in approval at her greeting before continuing, "And my oldest: Boris."

The boy who came out next appeared older than Ingrid. His matching brown hair cut just at the forehead and his noticeably thin figure seemed to almost sway in the slight evening breeze. What caught Vlad's attention most, however, were the pair of glasses sitting stop his cousin's nose. Very rarely did vampires or their offspring need other objects to improve their senses. Vlad and Ingrid had always had perfect vision and their father had told them that it was thanks to their vampire genes.

The Count acknowledged his niece and nephew with the same inclination he had given his younger brother before. "These are my own: Ingrid and Vladimir."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Uncle." Ingrid stepped forward, offering a bow.

It seemed Ivan did not know what to make of Ingrid's forwardness. Very rarely did female vampires choose to speak first. He simply bowed in return.

After Vlad offered his own greeting, the elder vampires chose to return to the castle where Renfield stood waiting with a welcoming meal and a few bottles of aged blood. Boris and Olga were scarce with their opinions about their new temporary residence, but it seemed Uncle Ivan did not fear voicing his own. He had laughed boisterously immediately upon seeing the ancient place at the top of the hill, exclaiming how the Count  _would_  choose such a place to live. The meal was as rancid as ever, but Ivan loved it and claimed it reminded him of Transylvania. As the night progressed, it became evident to Vlad that both brothers shared a competitive yet warm bond – something he would not have predicted considering his own dynamics with Ingrid. Perhaps it helped that both were men with a taste for similar things.

Finally, as Vlad was beginning to feel his eyelids droop from exhaustion and dawn was drawing close, the Count proclaimed that he would be headed to his own quarters and invited their guests to do the same. Nobody contested, and as Ivan followed the Count out, so did Olga follow Ingrid. Vlad found himself left with the host duty of showing Boris to the guest room.

Even in his tired state, the young vampire couldn't help but try to get a better glance at his cousin. Boris had been completely silent the whole night, eating Renfield's meal without complaint and listening to the conversation. It seemed that it was not out of premeditated detachment like Vlad had chosen to do, but more out of…nervousness? The elder boy carried himself with his shoulders hunched in and his eyes darted about consistently, searching for any source of alarm. Vlad was reluctant to attribute it all to anxiety, but it was certainly not out of confidence.

"How do you like it here?" he finally asked to break the silence.

Boris licked his lips and clasped his hands before replying. "It's definitely larger than anywhere I've lived before."

And while that had been informative to a degree, it had hardly been positive or negative. Vlad didn't push any further. He could tell his cousin did not wish to pursue conversation. Instead, the young vampire picked up his pace so that they would not travel in awkward quiet any longer than they had to. It was a lucky thing that the Count had decided Boris would be rooming in the tower, just a floor below Vlad's own room at the top. At least then, Vlad could quickly go to his own room to be alone at last.

They came to a stop at a wooden door, dusty but strong. Vlad turned the handle and it swung open easily, exposing the bedroom with all of Boris's luggage already inside thanks to Renfield. The single large window in the room faced the town and already the sky was changing from black to dark blue. Vlad motioned towards the interior, expressing that it was his cousin's, but looked back a little confused when Boris did not move immediately to settle in.

The bespectacled vampire was chewing his lip, and looking at Vlad with an intensity he hadn't shown all night. "My dad said you're wizard trained."

"Yes." The young Dracula heir almost wanted to roll his eyes. Miraculously, Uncle Ivan hadn't brought up that particular topic all night. But it was now clear that such a lack of action had not been out of ignorance. It surprised Vlad a little and made him wonder if his uncle had tact his own father did not.

"You don't seem very vampiric," Boris continued curiously and slowly.

Vlad blinked, confused now. "Thank you, I suppose. You do know that just because I can use some magic doesn't mean that I'm a fully-fledged vampire, right?"

"Oh." A little disappointment pulled the elder boy's mouth into a frown. "I'd been hoping…"

"Hoping?"

"Hoping that maybe it meant I would be just as normal once I Turned."

The statement took Vlad by surprise and he widened his eyes. Could it be? "You don't want to be a vampire?"

"It's kind of scary, don't you think? I-It makes me nervous." It seemed that now Boris was talking he couldn't stop. "I'm a little shy, you see. And I don't really even like the dark or bats or blood. Especially blood. It's a lot of red."

Vlad was now looking at his cousin in a completely different light. Here was somebody he could relate to completely. "No! I mean, I get it. I feel the exact same way. I don't even want to be a vampire at all too!"

"Really?" Now it was Boris's turn to look astonished, his eyes bulging even more underneath his glasses.

"Really. I've been trying to tell my dad for years but he won't listen."

"You tell your dad?  _Your_  dad?" Boris wrung his hands. "Wow, that's brave of you. You talk to the Count like that. I can't even tell my own dad; he'd think I'm insane."

Vlad threw his cousin an odd look. As much as he understood Boris's reluctance to tell Uncle Ivan, he wondered why the older boy wouldn't even mention his fear of Turning. It was almost too late now, with the Debut so close and his cousin's own birthday fasts approaching. The Count had mentioned Boris was older than Ingrid by a couple of months and that his sixteenth birthday would actually be on the final day of the Debut. Uncle Ivan and the Count had described it as "just the right way to exit."

It didn't help in the slightest that Vlad himself had come no closer to finding a cure. He had been reading  _Strigoi_ , the book Dobby had given him. But what it had told Vlad so far was mostly what wizards had once known about vampires and how to defeat them with their magic rather than an alternative to Turning. It was so far morbidly educational, but left Vlad bereft of an answer to his (and Boris's) problem.

Vlad had nothing really to offer, but he said anyway, "Maybe I can help you. We can try to find a cure before you go to the Debut."

"You would do that for me?" There was so much hope in his cousin's eyes that Vlad felt immediately guilty.

"I can't promise I'll find it."

Boris nodded, a genuine smile on his face. "Of course. But it means a lot to me anyway."

~0~

Vlad quickly learned that while he and Boris had found a profound connection, Ingrid and Olga had found a profound rivalry. It had become immediately apparent when the two girls chose to argue about everything, from how quickly they could reach the master dining hall from their rooms to the quality of their glares. The next few days proved that there was nothing too small that could be competed over. And while a few destroyed pieces of furniture and sets of armory in the halls followed in their wake, the Count and his brother seemed too engrossed in their own conversations to truly care.

Olga clearly did not have the same disposition as her brother. She was vicious and proud to her very core, seeming a great deal taller than she truly was at times. Boris mentioned earlier on that his sister did not think much of him, and Vlad quickly agreed considering she chose to call him "witless" and "idiot" more often than not.

In the end though, it was probably for the best because, in between meals and the necessary lessons the elder Draculas taught Boris and Ingrid for their upcoming Debut, Vlad and his cousin were largely left alone. Ingrid, for all of her small battles with the youngest cousin, seemed happier to let them be because for the first time in her entire life, the Count was giving her attention. It was attention given out of necessity, but attention nonetheless.

So Vlad tried to make the most out of it. He and Boris scoured the castle, searching through old tomes and artifacts that the Count stored away. While much of their quest involved disappointing results, Vlad was excited to talk to a kindred spirit. They talked about their worries of becoming vampires, shared stories of their fathers love of blood and their mixed feelings about their sisters. More than anything, Boris seemed fascinated to hear about Vlad's childhood in Transylvania, asking questions about what the country looked like and how the vampires were like there and the culture. Boris and Olga knew how to speak Romanian, but both had an accent that belied their nomadic upbringing.

Boris could barely remember his mother, only that she had been there for a few years only to perish at the hands of Slayers soon after giving birth to Olga. Ivan had apparently taken revenge and from then on, traveled around America with his children. Neither Boris nor Olga attended school while they shifted from place to place, but occasionally they would come into contact with the local Breathers and that had not always been the best of experiences. Their life had been one of constant change, where the only constant was family.

It was perhaps why Boris was so astonished to hear from Vlad that before beginning school at Hogwarts, the Count had chosen to stay in one castle. Vlad, in turn, had been just as interested to hear about what life might have been like moving around rather than being raised in a single castle with only one small village of Breathers close by.

The only thing that fascinated Boris more was perhaps Vlad's ability to use magic at will. Being so close to Turning, the older boy often flew in his sleep or set random objects aflame in moments of uncontrolled power. It terrified him and made him more skittish with each passing day. To comfort Boris, Vlad answered a few of his cousin's questions regarding magic, but the younger vampire quickly made it clear that he wasn't an open book on the topic. Boris understood more or less that Vlad made a point to turn conversation away from discussion on magic and magical abilities and limited himself after they briefly shared their first argument.

"What makes you so interested in magic anyway?" Vlad had asked sharply after Boris had inquired whether the wizards had ever taught how to read minds. "I thought you didn't want to be a vampire?"

Boris had shrugged. "I don't. It scares me. But the magic doesn't seem so awful. Maybe I wouldn't have to be so scared all of the time if I could use magic like you."

"You do know that if you don't become a vampire, you probably won't have magic?"

"I know." Vlad's elder cousin paused. "But if you know too, then why even bother learn magic from the wizards?"

The same thought had occurred to Vlad many times. He didn't know for sure if he would be able to keep his magical abilities if he found a cure for vampirism. But if he were ever given an absolute choice between humanity and eternal undead life, Vlad knew that he would choose humanity even in if it meant losing magic – and maybe his own family – forever.

"Why not?" Vlad finally replied. "It can't hurt for now."

The conversation had stopped after that. But it gave the Vlad something to think about. It seemed that while both he and his cousin did not wish to become vampires, they had very different reasons for it. For Boris, fear of the unknown drove him and Vlad couldn't help but wonder if that was a good or bad thing.

He didn't think too long or too hard on it though. Instead, Vlad devoted himself to the task of finding a cure in the few days they had, even if the prospect of finding one dimmed every day the Debut loomed closer.

~0~

The day before they were to leave for Transylvania, Ivan decided to leave the evening's lesson to the Count, opting to find Vlad poking about one of the coffers further back in the castle. The younger vampire had been sifting through the various books tucked away behind a few extra coffins and jumped a little when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Interesting place to be wandering."

Vlad looked at his uncle, the closest he had ever been to the vampire, and smiled slightly. "Well, I have to keep myself occupied when I can."

"Boris wouldn't like this place very much. Coffins make him anxious."

Vlad only placed whatever book he had been reaching for in reply. He had already known Boris wouldn't like it, which was why he had decided to come to this area of the castle without his cousin. Coffins did little to ease Vlad's already frayed nerves from the year, but he was not fundamentally afraid of them. How could he be when he had first seen them as comfortable beds his parents slept in as a child?

The young vampire wasn't surprised when his uncle suggested they take a walk after a few moments of silence; the man had not decided to find his nephew for fun after all. Still, Vlad found himself struggling to know why his Uncle Ivan would want time alone with him. The young vampire agreed of course, offering to show his guest the surrounding woods. They did not need to worry about the sun, for it had dipped below the horizon a few hours ago.

Ivan readily conceded, walking beside Vlad as they left the castle premises and towards the thick line of trees closely bordering the back of the property. The man's stride was confident, seeming to shake the earth a little with every step. Vlad had to walk briskly in order to keep up.

In the time the younger vampire had lived in Stokely, only a fraction of it had been spent exploring the woods. It wasn't out of lack of curiosity on Vlad's part, but rather time. So much of it had been spent with Robin in the town, in the castle, or away at Hogwarts. Vlad had only ever been able to get about a half hour in deep and in doing so, had found a small glade close by that he liked. It was one of the few places the dense population of trees (ranging from Ash to Oak) did not obscure the light from the moon overhead. Instead, a patch of grass grew thick enough to reach beyond Vlad's ankles.

Vlad led Ivan to the glade, a small part of him taking comfort in the familiarity of the place. They walked the entire way in silence, allowing the quiet of the evening take precedent even when the younger vampire stopped in place to face his elder. Ivan looked at Vlad in the eyes, seeming to finally take into deep consideration who his nephew was. The man took his time absorbing what he saw until finally he had seen enough and began to speak.

"Your father speaks highly of you. He believes that there is nobody more worthy to be the Dracula heir despite your denying your heritage."

Vlad was careful in his response. "My father has always been generous with his praise. I am not quite sure I deserve it."

"A great majority of the vampire world would agree with your father." Ivan swept his arms out, emphasizing his words. "The news of your magical ability is something nobody has missed. Already, some believe you might be the strongest of not only your generation, but also of the few who have come before you."

This was not necessarily new to Vlad. He had known, of course, that his father had not been quiet about his son's attendance to a wizarding school. But he did not like hearing what people thought of him; it made him feel anxious and trapped. He wondered what they would all think once they learned he wanted to be mortal.

"Your father wishes for you to take the Dracula throne," Ivan continued. "Many others expect to see you rise to power in a few years. But I have been watching you, Vlad, and I don't think you are what everybody thinks you are. I have yet to meet a vampire who has sought out my son's company and I would daresay that your sister would be more of what the world expects."

Chills tickled Vlad's spine. He had not known his uncle had been watching him so closely. "Ingrid would make a perfect vampire."

"But so would you, in your own way."

That surprised Vlad, making him look sharply at Ivan. "Why would you believe that?"

"You are not what I expected and continue to be not what I expect. You're a mystery to me and your father, for all of his faith in you, has told me that he too finds you to be an enigma. You're something of a wild card, Vladimir."

Vlad was tense now. He felt like a specimen under a microscope and was dismayed that somehow he had garnered his uncle's attention. Somehow, being not interesting enough, he had become interesting. What was it about vampires that they thought there was always something beneath everything? What made his uncle think that there was anything more? Vlad only wanted to be normal and for Ivan to think that the young vampire wanted anything more was ludicrous.

"I did have my fair share of wildness too," Ivan grinned ruefully. "Thought I could go blood-free for a while."

Vlad's eyes widened in shock, disbelief making his stomach twist.

"But I am telling you now, as your uncle, that it would save you a lot of pain to accept that isn't something possible for us. I do not know you, Vladimir. But I can see a defiance in your eyes that once filled mine."

Vlad couldn't stop himself from asking, "What happened?"

Ivan's eyes clouded. "Boris and Olga lost their mother is what happened. Things go wrong when you don't follow the natural order and if there is one thing I have learned, it's that vampires and blood are two things that will always mix."

"What if I don't want to be a vampire, then? I could avoid it all." Something was rising up in Vlad, a desperation that made him argue. Because here was a vampire who had tried to escape his nature, if only for a bit, and it was almost heart wrenching to hear yet another piece of evidence that what Vlad wanted was ultimately impossible. "If vampires and blood are inseparable then maybe being a vampire isn't all it is made out to be."

Ivan's voice turned cold. "Don't be a fool, boy. You cannot avoid becoming who you were born to be from the beginning. Even I knew that from the start."

The anger made Vlad bolder. It was familiar. Here was the response he was used to hearing from his dad. "If it makes me a fool, then so be it. I'd rather be a fool than become a slave to power and bloodlust. I don't want to become a creature that spends the rest of its life constantly hungering for more."

"This  _creature_  could snap your neck if you don't watch your words." Ivan's eyes had turned red, his voice layered with dangerous power. Something Vlad had said had made him angry. "We are more than you think. Do not belittle your kind. We change the tides of history, conquer those weaker than us, make the flow of time and life bend at our will!"

Vlad was walking backwards now, as his uncle advanced upon him. The younger vampire's heart was beating quickly, his breaths short. But he refused to break eye contact with his uncle. This was a battle of ideals Vlad couldn't let go, even though he knew that he was pushing his uncle. He had been around enough vampires to know when things were getting dangerously close to the edge. "I've told my father countless times that isn't something I want!"

"What you want does not matter!"

"Maybe it doesn't to somebody like you who gave up so easily!"

Vlad sensed his uncle move before he saw and the next few moments happened too fast for him to follow. He shouted, " _Diffindo!"_ a split second before he felt a hand grab him by the throat and saw stars spring into his vision after colliding with the tree trunk he had been cornered to. Vlad's breath caught in his chest as he choked under the pressure and unconsciously clawed at the hand trapping him.

He felt his magic rise, threaten to break beyond its boundaries in his shock, only for it to stop upon hearing a voice to the side say, "Enough."

Almost immediately, Vlad was released and he fell gasping to the forest floor holding his throat. He coughed a few times and blinked before he could weakly turn to see his father standing at the edge of the glade, watching them.

"Stand up, Vladimir. It is unbecoming to remain on your knees."

Vlad moved at his father's command, fear and adrenaline making him obey. He moved to his feet despite feeling his head spin at the movement and took a few steps to stand by the Count's side. Once there, he looked up and saw his uncle still within the circumference of the glade, the moonlight making his red eyes brilliant in the darkness and the large gash upon his arm impossible to miss.

"It is rude to strike at your elder family and guest," the Count said as if this were nothing more than a lesson he was teaching in the castle. "I told you before, did I not?"

"Yes, father," Vlad murmured. He turned to his uncle and bowed at the waist, trying not to lose his balance. "Please forgive me, Uncle, for my actions."

Ivan was still, but tense. His eyes darted between father and son before he inclined his head. "I accept your apology."

Almost as soon as the apology was said, the Count flitted to stand a hairsbreadth away from his brother and bared his fangs, snarling furiously. His eyes flashed, lethal and bloody and his nails were sharpened, clawed at his sides. Thunder and a flash of lightning shot from the sky in response to the Count's anger. The power in the air made rooted Vlad down to the spot and he was reminded again why other vampires feared his father. Ivan was strong though and stood his ground, for he too was privy to the power of their bloodline. But even he bared his fangs in instinctual defense.

"My son is trying and at times ignorant. But you are  _never_  to touch him." The Count's voice could cut iron. "Am I clear?"

"Of course," Ivan replied, his voice taut. "It was a lapse in judgment."

The two brother remained in place, still as statues and on the verge of leaping at each other's throats and

Then, as suddenly as it had all begun, they relaxed and the tension in in the air dissipated in one breath. Incredibly, the Count slapped a hand to Ivan's shoulder and said, "I told you to talk to Vlad, not threaten him, Ivan."

"You told me he was difficult, but not that difficult, brother. He is too precocious for his own good."

Vlad couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief. How had his uncle gone from near murderous to joking in the span of a few minutes? And had his father really asked for Ivan to talk to the younger vampire, as if it would actually change Vlad's mind? The whole thing was a mess and for a split second Vlad couldn't help but wish he was suddenly back at Hogwarts if only for a bit of sanity.

"Cut right into you, didn't he?" There was pride in the Count's voice. "I knew he had it in him."

"I didn't know the wizards taught things like this," Ivan replied ruefully, pulling up his arm so that he could observe the damage. He sighed and grimaced. "This will hurt for a whole day."

The Count cheerfully agreed and walked over to put a hand on Vlad's shoulders. "Feeling better, Vlad? I must say that was a good bit of work, almost as fast as a vampire there even now! Perhaps keep the attacking to a minimum once we go to the Debut tomorrow, hm? I wouldn't want to start an international incident during a truce!"

Yet something about the way the Count's eyes sparkled at the idea told Vlad that his father would be more than happy to see such a thing happen.

* * *

**Yes, I did have Ivan come already a normal vampire and not the hippy blood-free version he had shown up as in the original episode. I thought it would be best considering I did not wish to dedicate a whole chapter dealing with his descent back into true vampire-hood. Instead, I decided that I wanted to work on Vlad's relationship with Boris and sort of get the new family members integrated into the story. I wanted to give a taste of their whole family's interactions with each other before diving into the Debut.**

**Also, the Debut will be my first real foray into foreign territory. So far, I have pulled from either the Harry Potter books for inspiration or the Young Dracula series. But the next few chapters (if I make this particular story arc that long) will be introducing the vampire world that Vlad will have to deal with in the oncoming years. It will be different and more of my own creation building upon what little was shown in the Young Dracula series. Very little of the structure was shown there and what was shown was something of a mess.**

**So here's to the new and I would like to warn that it might take me even longer than normal to write it since world building is something I particularly struggle with.**

**Thank you for reading and continuing to read. Till next time!**


	36. The Debut: Part 1

Chapter 36: The Debut Part 1

One of the many things that the Count and Ivan Dracula had never detailed to any of their children was exactly how they would be getting to Romania where the Vampire High Council resided. This was partially due to the fact that neither brother had ever done so; they just simply took their children where they needed however they needed to when the time came. So it was a little bit of surprise when all four of the younger Draculas were summoned down into the castle's crypts in their best attire for an explanation the evening following Vlad's "conversation" with his uncle (who had since covered his wound with a long sleeved tunic).

"We have received notice that tonight is the night," the Count announced, holding up a roll of parchment in between his middle and index finger. "Tonight is the beginning of the Debut."

Ivan nodded and raised a small black silk bag tied with red rope. "His Grandness likes to change it up every year. Thinks it'll keep things interesting." A wry smile turned the corners of his lips upward. "This year, he's sent us some leu coins to put under our tongues before lying down to sleep."

Confused silence met that particular piece of information. Vlad glanced over briefly at his sister and cousins to see if this meant just as little to them as it did to him. Luckily, it seemed to be the case – even for Boris and Ingrid.

Only the two elder children had truly been prepared for the upcoming event. It seemed that despite being trained from birth on etiquette and proper mannerisms necessary of a born vampire, there was even more to learn when it came to grand gatherings like this one so that Ingrid and Boris could stand out in an already prestigious crowd.

Vlad and Olga had been largely left to themselves, only receiving one lesson detailing what was expected of them as visiting siblings. For them, keeping to the background and implementing basic vampire formalities should be enough because they were only there to indicate the strength of the Dracula clan and its unity. As divided as they might be within the family, both elder Draculas emphasized, it was crucial to show no weakness to the other clans visiting.

This was a concept Vlad was fairly familiar with. Slytherin functioned similarly. He knew how to hold his tongue and expressions in check when necessary. If anything, Olga and Ingrid were the most likely to slip when together since they were consistently at each other's throats. But that was something the Count and Uncle Ivan had already fixed by telling each of the girls to minimize their interactions once in Romania.

"We do not know what will happen once you are lying down with the coin," the Count continued, his face straight with rare seriousness. "Again, the Grand High Vampire does enjoy varying the Debuts. But he has sworn in written blood to maintain the Debut truce. No harm should come to any of us until the event is over. Unfortunately, this also means we cannot harm others in return." The idea obviously seemed to annoy the Count. He had been repeating that rule several times throughout the last few days as if to remind himself more than anybody else.

How the very concept of a truce managed to maintain itself when hoards of vampires were congregated was beyond Vlad. It wasn't like they could not resist the urge. Born vampires – more than any other vampires in the world – had more control over themselves when it came to vampiric needs. What it really narrowed down to was their lack of desire to exercise said control. These were vampires used to having their way and nothing less.

Which brought forth the point of the Grand High Vampire. It made sense that the ruling vampire would have the greatest power; no clans or council members would abide by Vampire Law otherwise. It was why the line of succession was determined by strength instead of lineage in a world where family names and blood mattered so much.

Uncle Ivan untied the bag as they watched, extracting coins made of brass plated steel and handing one to everybody in the room before keeping the last for himself. They seemed ordinary enough as Vlad examined the small object in his palm, even indicating recent minting. They weren't of any sort of gold extravagance he might have expected from the highest reaches of vampire authority.

"Right then, in we all go," Vlad's uncle prodded, motioning towards six coffins Vlad just realized were there.

Boris's voice trembled only a little when he asked, "W-We're going in there? But we aren't vampires yet."

"You can't expect to be lying in a bed like a Breather when you're going to attend the Debut. This is your first step towards becoming a full vampire."

That sent chills down Vlad's spine. He knew that his uncle had been speaking primarily to Ingrid and Boris. But it made him nervous nonetheless and brought back anxieties he had not quite dealt with from the Chamber of Secrets. If this wasn't so important to his sister, Vlad would have found a way out of this. He knew he could. The Malfoys might not be so welcoming now, but he knew his way around Diagon Alley and the various hostels enough to pretend he was visiting an important friend from Hogwarts for a number of days. Anything of less importance would have had him out of this Debut business in the blink of an eye. But he saw how happy this made Ingrid. He saw how attention given her way for the first time in years changed her and how excited she was, even now, to finally be a part of the world she had always dreamt about being a part of. She might not have shown it so obviously, but Vlad knew Ingrid better than possibly any else.

It was for Ingrid that Vlad kept his silence and obediently settled himself into one of the coffins despite the sense of dread that coated his stomach. The Count and Uncle Ivan watched their children, ensuring everything would go smoothly and watching Vlad and Boris in particular. They certainly did not have to monitor Olga and Ingrid; they lie down in their respective coffins with almost unconcealed eagerness.

Vlad watched as one by one beginning with Ingrid, they placed their coins underneath their tongues. Almost the moment their mouths closed, they fell into deep sleep whereupon the Count or Uncle Ivan sealed the coffin closed. Watching his sister and cousins depart made Vlad's breathing short, not at the idea of being in a coffin, but at the vampiric nature of it. This was too reminiscent of his worst nightmares. The idea made some primal fear he hadn't felt since facing the troll in his first year at Hogwarts bubble forth.

When it was finally Vlad's turn, he lay down fully, feeling the cushioning of the coffin lining made to fit his body perfectly. It was extremely comfortable, but it did little to calm him. In the corner of his eyes, Vlad saw his father step closer to watch his son.

"Don't be nervous, Vladdy." Of course his father heard his heart beat faster than normal. It was surprising, though, that the vampire had decided to encourage his son rather than scold like he probably would have done with Boris. The words were short and probably said in passing. Yet Vlad took small comfort in them anyway and raised his hand to his mouth to place the coin underneath his tongue.

The last thing he remembered was tasting the metal and seeing the Count watch him with black eyes – not unlike what a possessed Ginny had once done from atop the Gryffindor stairs.

~0~

His senses didn't come to him slowly like they had when he woke in the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, everything came to Vlad in a spontaneous moment when his eyes opened of their own accord and he found himself already upright and standing in the center of what seemed to be a throng seated vampires. It startled him, almost made him lose balance and gasp. But he stood firm and unmoving, only his eyes darting about to show that he was surprised. Something about the atmosphere told him immediately that any weakness would be found and attacked.

As surprised as Vlad was, he had a fairly good idea where he had been taken. It was obvious enough once he noticed a raised dais at the front of the room where one vampire sat separately and above the rest. Vlad wasted no time in dropping to one knee and bowing his head, avoiding eye contact. Keep his head low and wear out this storm of a Debut, Vlad reminded himself. "Your Grandness."

There was a measure of silence, of judgment. It made Vlad feel small and exposed to be in the center with nothing but his vampire robes to separate him from lethal Lords and Ladies. A good minute or so passed before a familiar voice called in Romanian, "Vladimir of the Dracula Clan. Stand." Vlad did react to that, straightening from his position and turning to his left to see an elderly woman. Her white face was fringed with dark curls pulled atop her head and her robes were pulled close and completely black with the exception of gold linings. Rings adorned her fingers as they gripped the wooden arms of her seat and what few wrinkles were beginning to show did little to hide the similarities she shared with her daughter.

"My Lady, Krone of the Westenra clan," Vlad acknowledged calmly. He refused to call her Grandmother. Her family line had lost their connection to the Draculas when Magda Westenra had left the Count. Krone knew this, yet she still spoke first. The fact that his grandmother had chosen to address him was an announcement to the High Council and Grand High Vampire present that they shared blood ties, and that she therefore had a right to introduce him. It was her way of cementing a relationship to the only vampire child alive attending a wizarding school.

Murmuring broke out at the exchange, various members of the High Council suddenly giving him another look. All noise ceased, though, the moment the vampire seated upon the throne raised a hand.

"So you are Vladimir."

"Yes, Your Grandness," Vlad agreed cautiously.

The man leaned forward a little. "I daresay I have heard of you. Whispers drift amongst us all about Count Dracula's prodigious son." Vlad wasn't so sure whether that was compliment or a direct jab at the Count's lack of subtlety regarding the topic. "You are here before us now so that we may speak with you before the Debut proceeds, something we are conducting for all participants and their attending families now."

Vlad struggled not to raise his eyebrows. Now? At the same time?

He didn't know he had spoken that last part aloud until the ruling vampire before him replied, "Yes, at the same time. Surely for somebody who spends so much time with wizards you would know that nothing is impossible with the right amount of power."

"Of course, your Grandness," the young vampire hastily tried to amend, keeping his face as straight as possible. He wasn't quite sure how the council was speaking to everybody individually at the same time but he accepted it without question. Sometimes magic was just beyond understanding.

Vlad didn't dare raise his eyes to look directly at the Grand High Vampire yet. He hadn't been given permission to do so, and it made reading the powerful vampire difficult. Body language could tell a lot, but facial expressions told even more. Particularly when the Grand High Vampire sat as still as a statue. Yet, Vlad could still tell the man was powerful and perhaps slightly lenient in the sense that the man had entertained Vlad's question. Something told the young vampire that the vampire ruler would only be permissive to an extent though. Vlad did not mind that. He wasn't here to challenge anybody, let alone the Grand High Vampire himself. He was here to support his sister and that was it.

"Tell me, what are the wizards like?"

Vlad was asked that question often enough to already know his answer. "They are very creative, your Grandness. Good teachers and welcoming." It didn't surprise the young vampire that the man before him did not know much about wizards. From what he gathered from his time at Hogwarts, the two worlds Vlad lived in hadn't had any sort of communication since the Dark Ages.

That seemed to satisfy the Grand High Vampire enough; he hadn't been looking for an encyclopedia of information. He nodded and leaned back on his throne. "So have you been taught enough to cast beyond rudimentary spellwork?"

"I suppose it depends on your definition of rudimentary, your Grandness." This was a delicate question to answer for Vlad. He did not want to portray that he knew too much. Who knew what the High Council and other vampires would expect of him then? Vlad had no doubt whatever he said here would spread.

"Say if I were to give you a spell to recite. How long would it take for you to learn to cast it?"

The Grand High Vampire's question belied his lack of spell knowledge. Vlad knew the vampire ruler would know his own magic, like many other vampires, well enough to control it to his desire. But vampires were not known for having a standardized method of magic casting. Everything was done instinctively and through years of experience. What the man was asking was far too vague. A simple spell from his school books, Vlad could do easily. But if the spell were too complicated and cost too much energy, he would not. It was something basic, but something easily overlooked to a population that did not necessarily have to always consider the mechanics of spell casting.

"I would have to see the spell and know the nature of it to tell you the answer to your question, your Grandness. Forgive me. I have only had two years of teaching."

The elder vampire waved a hand. "Nothing to apologize for. You are still un-Turned and young."

It seemed the Grand High Vampire was not only relatively lenient for a man of his position, but also understanding. Vlad was pleasantly surprised. He almost expected to be punished for not answering clearly.

"You are interesting, Vladimir. Perhaps too interesting for one exchange to suffice. But we need not question you further. You are here for your sister, are you not?" At Vlad's nod, the Grand High Vampire extended a hand to command the doors behind the young vampire open. Vlad didn't see them open, but he could feel that the man had done so with his power and done so casually it made Vlad's eyes widen a bit. "Then we shall not hold you needlessly. You are but a visitor this time. Dismissed."

Fascinating. Vlad had been held for quite a bit shorter than he had been expecting. It seemed the Grand High Vampire had seen what he needed to. But, like Vlad, the High Council itself seemed startled to see their ruler allow him leave. They shifted unsatisfactorily, clearly having hoped to get a better gauge of a potential wrench in the power ladder. Vlad had been rather short with his answers and unforthcoming in almost every way – or at least that's what he hoped he had portrayed. These were people he did not want to share too much with.

Before one of the council could say anything else to keep Vlad there, he bowed on one knee to the Grand High Vampire and turned to leave. His brisk steps echoed on the stone floor beneath him as he strode past the many faces of the vampires present and his face remained carefully blank despite his relief. Nobody spoke a word as he left and only when the double doors closed behind him, did Vlad dare to let out a breath.

That could have gone worse.

Whatever respite he was granted was brief. From the shadows of the hall he had stepped into, a thin figure taller than Vlad stepped forward with his head bowed and wrists turned upward.

Vlad had always known keeping Breather servants was a vampire tradition. His own family had Renfield. But Renfield was a rare case in many aspects. Most Breather servants were not afforded their own rooms, their own clothes, their own freedom around the castle, or their own free will. Breathers did not choose to be vampire servants; they were not like house elves. But Renfield did and many of his peculiar freedoms were granted in exchange for his knowledge in alchemy. The man, for all of his oddities, had always served the Count well when necessary and for that the Dracula family tolerated Renfield.

But Vlad had seen the occasional vampire visit his father over the years with a Breather servant in tow, and he had not liked them at all. They were often so subjugated in mind and body that they were hardly more than walking meals for the masters they served. It was vile in Vlad's mind. At least house elves still had some spirit in them when they worked.

Breather servants were taught first and foremost to be loyal to the family or castle they were assigned to. Once that was engrained, often through repeated hypnotism, they were shown a variety of other mannerisms – like presenting their wrists in an offering of blood. Any vampire could take from an offered wrist, but it was etiquette that only a servant's true masters could take from the neck. Even then, few accepted the offer. Why bother with a servant when there was more exciting prey to find outside the castle?

Repulsed, Vlad refused as custom demanded by saying nothing.

When the appropriate amount of time passed, the servant straightened with his eyes still downcast and pulled his wrists back to his sides. "I will be escorting you to your rooms, my Lord. If you would follow me."

Vlad obeyed, quietly walking where the man guided him. He didn't bother to strike up conversation like he had with Draco's house elves in the past. This servant's loyalties were far more restricted and the less Vlad showed to anybody here the better. It was Ingrid's job to show off. Instead, he finally turned his eyes to the castle.

The entire place was made of stone, as most castles vampires occupied were. Cobwebs and dust lined each surface and the air seemed thick with power and age. They had clearly been within the lower portion of the castle as Vlad noticed their path took a continuously upward trek. The further up they got, the less necessary Vlad's heavyset cloak seemed and soon, they came across their first window. To Vlad's surprise, it was daytime as he took a glance outside. Had his meeting with the Grand High Vampire and his High Council taken longer than he thought? He snuck another glance out as they began another set of winding stairs and smiled a little at the first country he called home.

The vampire capital bordered on warm in the summer with humid air, the occasional rains, and greenery abound. Transylvania was a region centered in the heart of Romania where the Carpathian Mountains snaked around its borders like a creature in the earth. It was a network of valleys, ravines, and canyons all linked together. When the sun was out, scenic wonder stretched as far as the eye could see before great peaks pulled your gaze to the heavens. It was perhaps a place that seemed incredibly unlikely to host monsters of the night. Yet, the country's history spoke for itself and those who had lived long lives in Transylvania knew that it was better to keep indoors when night took over and to light candles to keep watch until dawn.

In the current day, the region's capital of Bucharest held the largest human populace as well as its financial, industrial, and cultural center. But a little farther north in the mountains themselves, lie the greatest of the old cities: Cluj-Napoca, Sibiu, and Brașov. It was in these ancient strongholds where vampire lore dug its fangs deepest and where many vampires – centuries old and barely new alike – found and established themselves.

Vlad had grown up in none of those cities, although he had heard about them many times. Instead, his family had chosen to settle in Sighișoara, a little east of Cluj-Napoca and on the fringes of the Târnava Mare River. It was where Vlad's great grandfather had been born, and where his family had helped in establishing the castle-lion coat of arms. The Count had always been fond of family history and he had made sure his children knew their homeland well. From the earliest moment they could remember, Vlad and Ingrid had known which cities lie where, how clans had risen and fallen, and where they themselves fit in the great legacy of the the Draculas.

It was all very pish-posh, Vlad thought, with all of the historic sites and tales of great conquest. But at the end of the day Romania wasn't a place of horrific myth or prestigious standing to him. It was just home, and he was happy to see it again even if he was here for his sister's Debut.

Vlad was so lost in his thoughts that he was surprised when the Breather servant came to an abrupt stop at a door in one of the many corridors. He blinked in confusion before he realized that they had arrived at their destination.

"Lord Count, Lord Ivan, and Lady Olga are a little further up," the servant pointed out to their right. He then opened the wooden door in front of them. "These will be your quarters during your stay, Lord Vladimir."

Vlad took a step inside and saw a grand, if rather generic vampire room. A single bed draped in crimson sheets thin enough for the summer occupied the right side while a cabinet, a private washroom, several trunks, a fireplace, and a small table with two chairs utilized the remainder of the space. Everything was predictably in shades of gold, red, and black.

"Your things have been settled in already at your father's request," the servant informed. "There are a set of stairs down the hall beyond your family's rooms that lead to the main ballroom on the first floor. Should you need anything, light one of the candles mounted on the walls and one of us will serve you, my Lord."

Vlad looked at the Breather and nodded. "Thank you for your service. You are dismissed."

It was not unheard of for a servant to be acknowledged for their actions. But Vlad realized a little too late once again that perhaps thanking the Breather might have been a little too much. Luckily, the servant did not collapse into a sobbing mess like Dobby had once done. The only thing that showed anything out of the ordinary had occurred was a slight tightening of the Breather's clasped hands before the man bowed once at the waist to depart. The servant had only partially closed the door behind him when a small female figure came barging past.

"Boris, you pathetic –" Olga stopped mid insult when she saw that it was not Boris she was talking to. Automatically, she stopped and pursed her small lips. Vlad's relationship with his female cousin did not consist of much. Most of Olga's time was spent sparring with Ingrid and when Ingrid was in lessons, the girl was in her room doing who-knew-what. If Vlad had to guess how many words he had exchanged with her so far, he'd probably guess a grand total of ten words and they had all been mandatory greetings. "I guess you're not Boris."

"Forgive me, my Lady," the servant began.

The man didn't get very far in what he was about to say before Olga whirled on him with her sharp tongue. "You're not forgiven, servant. What makes you think you can interrupt me? I expect you to report to your masters and demand punishment for your insolence."

The servant barely blinked at that. He only bowed once to show that he would do as was commanded.

Vlad rolled his eyes before addressing the bowed figure. "Continue. What were you going to say?"

"My Lord and Lady, the participants of this year's Debut are housed in the West Wing of the castle."

"And where are we then?" Olga snapped.

"The East Wing, my Lady, upon the fifth floor. I assure you, none have finer rooms than the Dracula clan."

Vlad could almost taste the barrage of questions his cousin was about to ask now that the servant proved to be a veritable trove of information regarding the castle. He was also curious but he wasn't about to sit through a half-hour interrogation. He beckoned to the servant to leave. "You're dismissed."

The Breather bowed once again, lower than before, and fully closed the door behind him.

"I wasn't finished with him," Olga said angrily.

"You could always ask any servant another time," Vlad replied briskly, untying his cloak and tossing it on one of the stools in the room. "Where's my dad and Uncle Ivan?"

Olga crossed her arms, unhappy to let the topic drop. But she relented and glared, "They're asleep. It's daytime."

"For how long?"

"How should I know?" she snapped. "When I came up here they were already asleep. I know because I knocked on their doors and looked inside."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Vlad shrugged.

A bit of silence passed between them then. There wasn't much they could say to each other and Olga had always seen him as her pathetic brother's accomplice the last few weeks anyway. Vlad knew she didn't necessarily see him in a good light. But as far as he was concerned, the more his family saw him poorly, the better. "Good" in their eyes was vampiric.

"How was your audience with the Grand High Vampire?" she finally settled upon asking – oddly diplomatic of her.

Vlad raised his eyebrows. He contemplated rebuffing her, but realized that despite everything she was family and he was the only person she could talk to now. Olga was the youngest of them all and even though she had a frightening penchant for vampirism already, she was still in a new environment.

Vlad raised a finger and responded, "Give me a second." He turned towards the walls of the room and pressed one of his palms to the stone, murmuring under his breath a protective spell to prevent any listeners from hearing. Yes, the stones were probably too thick for anybody to hear anything. But he wasn't going to take risks and he knew that the castle itself might be watching them. It was a simple enough spell, not the strongest because Vlad had yet to learn those, but he hoped it would suffice.

When he turned back to his cousin, a new and less hostile expression adorned her face. It wasn't necessarily more welcoming, but it was no longer as sharp edged as it had been. "I've never seen you cast magic before," she commented with her voice neutral.

Vlad shrugged it off. "Just something to make sure what we say will be private. You were asking me about my audience right?"

"Yes. What did you think of it?" Olga was once again all business.

"Short. Not much else."

"That's it?"

Vlad shook his head. "Honestly, no. I didn't even get a look at the Grand High Vampire's face."

"I didn't either." Olga pursed her lips. "He probably didn't let anybody un-Turned see him. I wouldn't if I were him." She paused again, as if restraining herself. Then her younger age showed when she continued, "I suppose I didn't know what to think either. Some of the High Council asked me about traveling and why my family hasn't decided to settle in Romania where we should be. Some asked me what I have been learning regarding vampire tradition. I knew of course, that Father has been teaching us what we need and I was perfect, but then somebody mentioned I had an accent - which I don't! I can't believe how insolent they were all being, knowing I am a Dracula."

Oh, Vlad could see why she wanted to talk now. This was the first time he detected the smallest traces of insecurity in her. Olga had probably expected to come to Romania to be treated like royalty. But that was not quite the case. He could see how it startled her; she had probably not had as many vampire visitors with her family's nomadic lifestyle so she had less exposure than Vlad and Ingrid had in their childhood.

"Is this your first time talking to Romanian vampires?" Vlad asked.

"Of course not! We met several families in New England who had recently moved there from Romania."

Not exactly what Vlad had in mind. Vampires around the world were ubiquitously vicious, but Romanian vampires were vicious  _and_  entitled. They believed themselves to be the original vampires after all and it showed. They would stop at nothing to find some fault.

Olga and Boris spoke perfect Romanian. They spoke as if they had grown up here, and although there was the slightest hint of an accent, Vlad hadn't thought it was significant enough to even comment on. He supposed he had underestimated vampire pettiness.

"They're just all fools," Olga sniffed, her eyebrows drawn into an angry crease, her eyes set, and her small stature almost trembling with indignation. "I will prove them all wrong. I am a Dracula and nobody should dare to question me."

Sometimes Vlad wondered if Ingrid and Olga knew just how similar they were. Perhaps it was a good thing they didn't; who knew what sort of trouble they'd stir up as a team.

~0~

"Vladimir Dracula?"

Vlad struggled to keep himself from letting out a sigh of resignation. This was probably the twentieth vampire who had approached him at tonight's gathering, and he was desperately looking for some escape route. If wasn't bad enough that he'd been forced to wear yet another heavyset of vampire finery for the entire night, he was also forced to do it cordially. After all, it was the first event of the Debut: a reception.

It had been two nights since Vlad and his family had been ushered to Romania via magical coin. The brief respite surprised the young vampire, but he quickly learned that it was due to the extended amount of time the debuting vampires were being held in audience with the High Council and the Grand High Vampire. Vlad had learned as much when he asked one of the servants if he could visit Ingrid and Boris and was given a rather solid refusal. When the young vampire asked why, the Breather had only vaguely said it was not allowed for the duration of their stay here so that the debutantes could be properly assessed and because they were most likely still being questioned.

So Vlad had taken to wandering the great castle instead, which he also learned to be the infamous Bran Castle itself. It was famously related to his family name through the books and it amused Vlad to know that this place actually existed. Discovering the title of the castle had been simple, but actually finding his way around was another matter entirely. Vlad had thought Hogwarts was a maze with its moving staircases and shifting rooms, but this stone structure somehow managed to confuse him even more. At times, when he thought he was going downwards, he found himself going up the stairs and the halls would stretch endlessly no matter how long Vlad walked. He could see why the initial servant who had shown him his rooms had explicitly stated how to contact them; if he hadn't been able to contact the servants for guidance he would have been lost a long time ago.

Yet, despite all of the obstacles, a slight shape of the place had begun to form in Vlad's mind. The easiest landmark to find was the main ballroom because it was as the servant had said: down the set of stairs beyond his family's rooms on the first floor. From there, a back door opened to a conjoining room breaking into other sets of hallways that, again, led nowhere in particular. The only rooms Vlad could consistently find beyond his family's and the ballroom were a study lounge on the third floor and a small library on the second. It seemed the castle was keeping him – and probably every else – separate from each other because Vlad never ran into any vampires except for the ones he had come with. It unnerved the young vampire a little to realize he could not find the entrance foyer either, preventing him from leaving the castle unless he jumped through a window.

Perhaps all of the trickery was for the better. The less a massive number of vampires ran into each other on idle days the less likely there would be mass murder occurring. The fewer vampires who could leave meant no resources coming in or out to ensure a fair Debut. At least, that was how Vlad rationalized everything. It was better than thinking himself a prisoner because that thought process would do nothing for his psyche. He already woke up enough at night without Zoltan or Nox there.

The only interesting thing that really came out of two days and nights of free time was the chance for Vlad to speak his uncle and cousin more. Olga, bored out of her mind, had decided talking to him was better than nothing. They talked about trivial things, never anything of heavy importance. Small things like speculation on the upcoming Debut events and thoughts on Bran Castle's bewildering layout dominated their conversations. It was partially due to the fact that neither of them knew each other well enough to broach any other topics. Vlad was just grateful Olga had deemed him neither competition nor bullying target like she had Ingrid and Boris. Sometimes, it looked like she hadn't known what to make of him even though she made sure to throw in her share of insults. He caught her a few times glancing at him from the corner of her eyes when he did something that surprised her like lighting a candle with a glance or giving her a word here and there about how to correct what incredibly slight accent she had.

Olga was a lot like her father in that respect. Since Vlad's confrontation with the vampire, the man had taken to striking up random amiable conversations with him. But neither of them ever broached the topic of Vlad's fierce dislike of actual vampirism again nor did they discuss Vlad's aunt. Ivan was, in many ways, like his brother. But in many ways he was not. He was a third son, destined not to inherit anything so long as the Count existed and that was perhaps why the man was not quite so forward. Ivan did not lack for energy – in fact, his booming voice challenged the Count's on a good day – but what proclamations he made were never as inciting. There was an odd diplomacy there, hidden under layers and layers of Dracula pride.

It had almost been peaceful until the third night they were at the castle. A servant had come into Vlad's room in the dead of night as he was preparing for bed to announce the High Council was holding a reception for all the distinguished guests within the hour. Naturally, Vlad was more than a little annoyed to be caught mid-teeth brushing (something his father always stressed to prepare for healthy fangs). But he had politely dismissed the servant and took a long sigh before reaching for his formal wear.

His family had entered together, an appropriate hour later than the time the servant had informed them. It would have been unbecoming to arrive on time, the Count had said. They were the most esteemed of vampire families; other clans waited on them, not the other way around. Unsurprisingly, they had not been the only family to think so. Quite a few others had arrived late as well, the servants barely blinking an eye. Vlad had a sneaking suspicion that the workers of the castle had been aware such a thing would happen and had already planned accordingly.

Only when it seemed like everybody had been present, did the participants of the Debut finally begin to step inside. It had been a long affair, with a member of the lower nobility taking the time to announce the names and titles of the vampire children. This was a Debut after all and knowing each new piece coming to the board was essential. It had quickly become clear that the debutantes were presented according to their standing and position. Those of the lower nobility were introduced first and, should there be more than one participant for each family, the children were named first to last in order of their right to inherit. Vlad had recognized almost all of the family names being listed, only struggling a little with the relatively new lower houses.

The entire room had remained attentive, taking particular notice when names of the upper nobility began to be called – Ramanga, Vaccaria, Lansley, Von Racalud, Baraque, Goffanon, Cihuateto, and Impundulu to name a few. These were the children who would one day rule their own houses and have the largest influence on vampire society. It was not only a point of interest to know these participants, but it was also of the utmost necessity.

Vlad had taken note of those entering, if only to remember so that he would not embarrass his sister later. It was only one particular name, however, that truly captured all of his focus: Danesi.

Of all the vampire lineages Vlad and Ingrid had to learn, it was the Danesi family the Count had brought to their attention first. He had looked them in the eyes, and told them this was perhaps the greatest threat they would have to contend with. Slayers could not be ignored, but they could also be easily avoided should the need arise and should a vampire have enough skill to do so. After all, Slayers were just Breathers and very rarely did vampires of high birth struggle with them. But equally powerful vampires with a vendetta could be incredibly dangerous for they had rivalling powers and strength.

It hadn't been hard to memorize the Danesi line because for the first six generations, the Dracula and Danesi line were one and the same. It was only when Dan I was murdered in the 12th century by his younger stepbrother, Mircea the Elder, that the family line split. Mircea the Elder had taken the family inheritance for himself and ruled successfully during his time alive. But Dan II, son of Dan I, and all of his descendants since have wanted the death of Mircea the Elder and all of his kin. The blood feud was infamous and the two houses never ceased to be at each other's throats to vie for the upper hand. The Count had been proud to tell his children that their ancestor had been Mircea the Elder – "such a fantastic role model" – and that the Dracula family prevailed more often than the Danesi did. Nevertheless, Vlad and Ingrid had been told to expect a Danesi to be out for their blood.

From what Vlad could recall, his family was currently of higher standing. This fact was solidified when the Danesi name was called first, before the Draculas, at the reception. Vlad imagined that little fact did not go unnoticed by anybody in the room that night, and he had struggled not to grimace. Technically, it was his ancestor who had murdered his elder brother in cold blood for power. Vlad would have been rather incensed at that too.

Thoughts of old feuds and murder aside, the young vampire had taken careful note of the Danesi debutante. His name was Will Danesi – a rather odd name for one of high blood – and according to the announcement, he was first in line for the Danesi inheritance. That last bit had made everybody shift a little more in excitement. Firstborn sons were always of interest.

Will had taken the attention with grace. He barely batted an eye upon entering and strode through the doors with what seemed to be easy confidence. Brown hair reached his ears and darker brown eyes surveyed the audience before him. He was on the taller side, so it wasn't long before he stood beside the others who had already entered.

Vlad didn't spare the Danesi heir too much attention after that and neither did the rest of the congregation when the next debutante was called. If the room had tensed before, the air had turned almost palpable once the announcing vampire called, "Ingrid of the Dracula Family, firstborn daughter of Count Dracula, the Prince of Darkness, and third heir to the Dracula throne."

She had been dressed in the finest black gown his father could commission, complete with rubies interspersed on her person and lips so blood red Vlad could almost believe Ingrid had bitten a Breather mere minutes before. Haunting, dangerous, and beautiful. She was so much more the vampire of the Count's children. And Vlad had been happy for her. He had no doubt she made quite the impression as she glided inside.

It had been rather unfortunate, then, that Boris was the last to step through the ballroom's double doors following the previous impressive two. Boris's entrance had been the most anticipated, everybody still as statues as his title, "Boris of the Dracula Family, firstborn son of Ivan Dracula and second heir to the Dracula throne" was announced. With their expectations heightened, the crowd had probably envisioned somebody of Uncle Ivan's strong frame and dominating presence. But what they had received was quite the opposite.

Even with his glasses noticeably absent, Boris had not been what people imagined. He had still been as thin as ever, and what posture he had acquired prior to the Debut seemed to shrink the further he stepped into everyone's scrutiny. Quite frankly, Vlad had thought it a miracle his cousin didn't trip on his way in; Boris was horribly nearsighted without his spectacles and already prone to clumsiness.

Vlad heard his father and uncle sigh a little at the sight. But there was little to be done as Boris took his last step inside and the reception began in earnest.

Vlad wasn't fooled by the seemingly innocuous nature of this event. This was no preliminary introduction session. The Debut had begun the moment all of them had been summoned and this was probably a test in and of itself. Vampires were lethal creatures, dangerous in more ways than one. Amongst themselves, methods varied from outright attacks to verbal slights. This was probably a way for each family to size each other up, test the waters during a truce. It was a show of restraint many probably struggled with and a time when each could plant the seeds of alliances or stoke the flames of conflict.

Basically, it was sure to be a night of torture for Vlad. He had no interest in throwing himself into the fray and quickly withdrew himself from his family before his father could boisterously show him off to everybody present.

The young vampire had been only halfway across the floor to the safety of the ballroom's edges before he was overtaken by a smiling vampiress. Vlad cursed whatever vampire etiquette required them to greet by introduction of names. He knew that if he had said any other generic title, the vampiress would have let him be for she undoubtedly could tell he was still un-Turned. Most un-Turned were unimportant at this stage. But Vlad knew his family name would turn heads.

And turn heads it did. The moment he said his name, the lady's dark eyes had brightened as much as a creature of the undead's eyes could and that was how Vlad found himself bombarded with the surrounding vampires. Luckily, none of them had been of particularly high standing quite yet. The last thing Vlad wanted was to catch the attention of anybody highly important. He occasionally glanced to the sides every once in a while to keep an eye out for any recognizable council members or other upper nobility.

"Please relay my regards to your father, Count Dracula," the vampire Vlad was currently talking to was requesting. "In case I am unable to make his acquaintance tonight."

Vlad nodded, a small smile plastered on his face. "Of course, my lord, it would be my pleasure."

With that, the young vampire extricated himself from the barbed bush that was small talk and finally managed to throw himself to one of the walls, directly under the light of one of the braziers illuminating the room. Vampires tended to avoid the light, seeing things far better in shadow. It was something Vlad had learned very early on as a child when he had tried to play hide and seek with his father. If it were only vampires attending, there would most likely not be any fires on at all. The lighting was most likely to accommodate those who could not yet see in the dark. A particular group that, uncomfortably enough, no longer included Vlad – not that he'd ever tell anybody that yet. As far as his family knew, Vlad was still normal outside of the magic he practiced.

He stood quietly observing the reception. Vampires were moving from person to person, making the most of the night. Some had many crowded about them while others had to actively work for conversation. Vlad had lost sight of his family at this point, but he figured that they undoubtedly captured a large number eager to speak to them. They did not necessarily need him with them as long a few people spotted him present. That was support enough for his sister.

Servants were interspersed among the crowd, offering cups of blood or their wrists depending on each vampire's preference. For the un-Turned, there were small h'orderves and several servants were performing music not unlike what Vlad had heard at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party as background for the vampires. There were a great many servants present at the reception to keep it running smoothly and it made Vlad wonder what most of them did on a normal basis when there wasn't such a meeting as this. Surely, between council meetings and Debuts this excess amount of servants had little to do?

Vlad spent some time wondering about small things like that until it struck him a little into the evening that the Grand High Vampire was missing. He eyed the throng of vampires. Maybe he had just missed the silver haired ruler? Surely such a figure would have commanded a presence by now. How very odd. Vlad frowned a little, searching the gathering again until he heard somebody settle in place next to him. The young vampire turned to his right, bracing himself for another formal greeting but was beaten to the chase.

"This is probably the best spot in the entire room," a slightly older boy grinned at him, his longer brown locks trailing into his eyes. "I can see why you've been hanging here for almost a good hour."

Vlad gaped a little at how casual his new wall companion was. "I'm not really into this kind of thing."

"Clearly! Not that I can blame you. I'm rather exhausted myself. Perhaps I'll stay with you. Two of us in the same corner does make for a better image, right?"

"Of course," Vlad replied, still trying to get a grasp on the boy in front of him. He seemed rather cheerful for a vampire and, despite what he had said about being exhausted, rather comfortable in his own skin. Vlad noted with mild surprise that the boy was also breathing. "You're un-Turned, right?"

"Just like you," the boy grinned. "Are you here for a relative?"

"My sister."

"We're in the same coffin then! I'm here for my brother. Not that he really needs my support here, he's already prepared."

Vlad raised his eyebrows, interested now that this conversation was quite a nice deviation from the many he had before. "You're proud of him."

"Naturally. He's probably the best brother out there and the strongest too. No offense, though. I'm sure your sister is just as fantastic."

It astonished Vlad how openly supportive his new companion was of his family. He knew not all vampire siblings detested each other – his father and uncle certainly didn't – but he had never seen any vampire so free in their praise. "My sister  _is_  fantastic. She's certainly going to be a better vampire than I will ever be."

"I wonder if they've met yet," the boy mused. "Maybe they'd make a good match then."

Vlad blanched. "What?"

"I'm kidding. Pulled your fang there, didn't I?"

Vlad couldn't help a slight grin at that. Who knew that he'd come across somebody like this at a vampire reception? It was like a breath of fresh air.

"Hey, there we go! Got you to smile a bit there. Which wouldn't be recommended, I suppose. That's something I have to work on. My father is constantly reminding me that maybe I should channel my energy elsewhere."

"I don't mind," Vlad smiled a little, feeling himself relax for the first time the entire evening. "I like it."

The boy laughed. "Then you're the first after my siblings to think so."

"You have more siblings?"

"Just a younger sister. My brother is oldest and I'll be Turning next year."

"You're nearly fifteen then?" Vlad was a little sad to hear that. He wasn't sure how much Turning changed a person, but he hoped it wasn't much in this case.

"In a few months, yes," the boy puffed with excitement, his eyes brightening. "Then it will be my turn to make my family proud. I'll help raise our clan further and higher than ever before. What about you? When are you Turning?"

Ah, into dangerous waters here. Vlad didn't like thinking about how much time he had left, so he replied, "I'm nearly thirteen."

"You've still got some ways to go, then. No worries, you'll be sixteen before you know it!"

Vlad knew his companion meant well, but he felt a little sick at the reminder. He didn't reply to that and just nodded once.

The boy seemed to sense the change in atmosphere because he quickly changed the subject. "Here, I'll introduce you to my brother. I'm sure you'll like him! And I like you so I'm sure you'll both get along splendidly."

Vlad almost wanted to protest, not in any mood to start up more conversation. But he hardly got in a word edgewise before his new acquaintance was waving at somebody from the crowd over. It was difficult to say no to this person when he seemed so exuberant with everything.

"I got him, my brother is coming over now!"

The young Dracula heir sighed and resigned himself to this meeting. He couldn't exactly reject the offer now. Instead, Vlad followed his companion's line of vision and saw something that made him choke.

"This is my brother, Will Danesi," the slightly older boy was introducing as one of the night's most sought after debutantes strode over. Vlad's acquaintance – a  _Danesi_  – noticed how stiff Vlad had become and smiled disarmingly. "Don't worry. He's not bad at all. I promise our family isn't as intimidating as it seems."

Vlad wasn't so sure about that. He forced himself to calm down a little and bowed slightly at the waist as Will pulled forward. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Hm, I like him already," Will assessed after bowing in return. He glanced at his younger brother. "At least he remembers his manners, Darius. What would father say if he saw you forgetting to introduce your new companion?"

Darius flushed a little at the gentle reminder. "I'm sorry," he said to Vlad with a bow. "I was so engrossed in our conversation that I forgot we had not even introduced ourselves to each other yet. I am Darius Danesi."

Both brothers then looked at Vlad expectantly. Oh, garlic. How was he going to get out of this one? The moment they heard his last name, everything would change. It would just be Vlad's luck to find the one likeable person in the room to be his family's sworn enemy.

"I –"

"My lord?" Vlad whirled around to see a servant bowing before him, holding up a small folded piece of parchment. "From the Grand High Vampire, my lord."

Relief flooded Vlad's mind before a new set of anxieties overtook him. A note from the Grand High Vampire himself? What did this mean? He picked up the parchment before bowing to the Danesi brothers. "Forgive me."

Will waved off the apology. "Best not to keep the Grand High Vampire waiting."

"Yes, no worries," Darius smiled. "We have the rest of the Debut, right?"

Vlad accepted their understanding with another bow before the two disappeared back into the crowd, leaving the young vampire to read the notice. He watched them go with a touch of regret. They were not the worst vampire children Vlad had ever met. In fact, they were on the more agreeable side. He wondered how much of that would be maintained should they learn his family name – as they were guaranteed to learn eventually. It made Vlad more than a little sad and once again frustrated that this was yet another thing he could not control. He hadn't asked to be born a vampire or a Dracula. Yet here he was, left to use the cards he was given to the best of his ability. Vlad sighed, suddenly very tired, before unrolling the paper in his hands.

_Vladimir Dracula_

_I would very much like to hear more of your experiences with the wizards. Come to my study at your earliest convenience. My personal servant will follow you until you deem it appropriate to come join me._

_His Grandness_

It…wasn't as bad as Vlad might've anticipated it to be. At least not from what the note stated. But he knew that things were not always so simple. The young vampire glanced at the servant waiting patiently beside him, looking out to the gathering to give the Dracula heir his space. Vlad hadn't noticed it before because he was so preoccupied with the Danesi brothers, but he saw now that this servant was dressed in more respectable clothing than the rest, her hair braided up in a neat pattern about her head and her expression more focused. She did not seem as hypnotized as the rest were. Perhaps this was what the Grand High Vampire's personal servants looked like?

"Would you mind showing me where his Grandness's study is?" Vlad inquired.

The servant turned her head to him, her eyes lowered. "If you so wish, my lord. The night is young, though. Are you quite sure?"

Yet another odd thing about this servant. Vlad had yet to meet a vampire servant who questioned the requests given to them. Still, it wasn't as if the young vampire was bothered by it in the least. If anything, it made him feel less uncomfortable. This servant seemed more human than the others and it was a point of familiarity for him.

"Quite sure," Vlad replied. "I don't think anybody is too interested in me tonight."

The servant remained silent in reply to that statement, as if she were skeptical of the statement's truth. But she did not question him again and merely stepped towards one of the doors towards the back of the ballroom, the door that led to the many hallways.

As she took him away from the reception, Vlad couldn't help but wonder if he was being tricked. He could not turn down the Grand High Vampire's invitation. But perhaps he should have told his family he where he was going first in case this was going to be a more sinister meeting than the note implied. The thought made Vlad's stomach sink. His life seemed to be a constant jump from one snake pit into another. How he wished he had Nox with him right now to at least keep an eye out for him.

They reached their destination within a matter of minutes. Vlad had lost track of where exactly they had turned and how far they had walked, but it certainly didn't seem too distant from the ballroom.

His assessment was quickly proven wrong, because once the servant opened the door, Vlad could see out the great span of windows at the far wall showing that they were far from the first floor of the castle. His eyes widened, but he immediately dropped to one knee upon noticing the Grand High Vampire's form sitting at strong wooden desk before the windows. Vlad's heart beat quickly, fearful of what was to come.

"No need to be so anxious, Vladimir Dracula," a slightly amused voice welcomed him. "Rise. You have my permission to relax yourself."

Vlad obeyed, trying calm himself. He stood up and only when he found himself a seat across the Grand High Vampire did he finally take a careful look at his surroundings.

It was not so big a room as he had initially thought. The windows spanning the entire wall behind the Grand High Vampire made it seem larger at first. But the more Vlad looked, the more the place seemed less intimidating. A fireplace with several skulls above it crackled with flame to his right, enough to brighten the room. Shelves of books occupied the space to Vlad's left with another set of reading chairs to the side. The room seemed very well used, the lack of mustiness indicating that the Grand High Vampire was in here enough to prevent too much dust from settling. Rich, thick rugs covered the stone floor and portraits of other vampires adorned the walls. The Grand High Vampire's desk itself was cluttered with open books and rolls of parchment, multiple maps dangerously close to falling over the side – a stark contrast to the neat nature of the study. He seemed to be very busy. Perhaps this was why the vampire hadn't been at the reception.

Last, Vlad dared to look up at the Grand High Vampire's face. He hadn't been able to at the audience when he had first arrived. But now that he looked at the vampire ruler, he observed an individual older than his father, the barest of wrinkles beginning to form on his face. It was a strong face that had probably seen far more than Vlad could yet imagine, and uncompromising. Longer white tresses framed the man's face and the crown of bones upon his head portrayed an elder authority. The Grand High Vampire wore purple robes, but no cloak for the night. In short, practical and commanding but not quite as sinister as Vlad might have imagined. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The elder vampire had been rather lenient during their first meeting.

"Finished looking, child?"

Vlad flushed in embarrassment at the question, bowing his head apologetically, "Forgive me, your Grandness. I did not mean to offend you."

"And you haven't," the Grand High Vampire dismissed. "You are not the first to be awed. Tell me, how has the reception been? I would have thought you would wish to stay amongst the rest for a little longer."

"The reception has been impressive, your Grandness," Vlad replied and he wasn't lying. The entire affair had been appropriately grand even if he hadn't particularly enjoyed it himself. "I just thought it best not to keep you waiting."

The Grand High Vampire did what Vlad could only classify as a dignified snort. "Different from your father, aren't you?"

The young vampire couldn't quite tell if that was a compliment, an insult, or a rhetorical question. He chose to politely reply, "If your Grandness believes so."

"Definitely different from your father." The Grand High Vampire looked at Vlad then, his eyes piercing the subject before him. "Interesting considering your mother shares none of your restraint, running off with that werewolf. Quite embarrassing, that business. Quite embarrassing."

It took a lot of Vlad's control to keep his face perfectly straight at that. The mention of his mother had immediately brought forth a bubbling anger he had to stifle like smothering a flame. Vlad wouldn't give anybody – not even the Grand High Vampire – the satisfaction of seeing how much his mother's desertion affected him. In the vampire world, it was a weakness to be exploited and made Vlad feel ashamed.

The elder vampire's eyes never left Vlad's face for the brief moments of silence that followed his statement. What he was looking for, the Dracula heir didn't know. But it seemed Vlad had passed some sort of test because the Grand High Vampire eventually chose to lean back into his chair, folding his hands in lap. "Enough of that. You are aware of why I invited you here?"

"You wished to speak about my experiences with the wizards, your Grandness" Vlad readily answered, eager to leave behind the previous topic.

"Yes, yes. You see, we have not had contact with the wizards for centuries. I have never been interested in beginning such contact again. But I would like to gather a sense of them."

Vlad was fairly sure the reason behind such renewed interest was not pure curiosity. If there was anything he knew about vampires, it was that they never did anything for one, innocent purpose. But he voiced none of his thoughts, only asking, "What would you like to know, your Grandness?"

"Anything of note, child. Perhaps how adept you believe they are? Any conflicts they are currently embroiled in? There has barely been any scent of them in the Breather world."

Vlad took a deep breath. "They are organized, I suppose. They have government and are very careful about keeping their magic a secret from the rest of the world. There…was a conflict before I was born but no longer." The young vampire decided revealing everything about Voldemort possibly being back was not wise at this point in time. If the Grand High Vampire heard of Voldemort, who knew what he would do with such information? Probably nothing. But Vlad would prefer it if his two worlds were kept separate and in order for that to happen, he had to make the wizarding world seem as innocuous as possible.

It felt odd, being the authority on this particular topic. He didn't truly know too much himself about the wizarding world, but he was the only one of the vampire world that had extended contact.

"What are their children being taught? What do you learn in class, child?"

"As I mentioned before, I have only completed two years. But what we begin with are simple spells, your Grandness. Things like having object float, and other small charms to set a foundation." Again, Vlad kept the information to a minimum. The Grand High Vampire didn't need to know Vlad read ahead and that Hogwarts had an entire class dedicated to defense against the dark arts. That would imply the wizards needed to defend themselves against anything at all and the vampire ruler might take it as some odd form of battle training.

"That is all?" There was something in his voice, something Vlad couldn't quite place.

"Yes, your Grandness. I am sorry I –" Vlad cut himself off, seeing in the window's reflection behind the Grand High Vampire that the servant who had led him here was pulling out a knife. He reacted without thinking, his body so tense since the Chamber of Secrets that he spun around in his seat to snap his fingers and exclaim, " _Protego!_ "

And not a second too soon. The servant had thrown the knife directly at Vlad; it would have pierced him between his eyes if his spell hadn't stopped the weapon midair. The young vampire hadn't even been sure the spell would work because he had read the protection spell was specifically designed to stop spells, not physical objects.

The scene was frozen like that for a moment, the servant's arm still extended from throwing the knife and Vlad standing with his own arm still outstretched, the weapon hovering as if hanging there by an invisible string. Then, Vlad released his hold on the spell and let the knife clatter to the floor before turning to the Grand High Vampire.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vlad asked, his sense of propriety gone. Cold fury replaced all other emotion. The servant would not have attacked like so if she had not been given permission by her master. Servants were hypnotized too well to act on their own to such a degree. Raising a hand against nobility was punishable by death.

"Ah, so you have learned some useful things," the Grand High Vampire mused, not at all concerned that his servant had almost murdered the Dracula heir. "You are awfully unforthcoming, child. Quite the opposite of how your father has described you, by the way. The Count did not hesitate to tell us about your boldness at home. Yet since coming here you have been anything but."

"So you nearly had me killed?" Vlad demanded. He was so tired of this. Why was it that everybody wanted to pull this sort of reaction out of him? It seemed like everything was trying his patience lately and the young vampire was beginning to run out of his restraint. Sometimes some deep, dark part of him wanted to just lash out and damn the consequences.

The Grand High Vampire's eyes darkened. "Watch your tone, child. Do not forget your place. Powerful as your family is, you still bow to me for a reason."

_Not for long, old man. Soon you'll be gone and we'll see who's laughing then._

Vlad blinked. Where…where had that come from? Surely not. He hadn't heard that voice since his first year at Hogwarts.

The vampire didn't have much time to dwell on that thought though, as the Grand High Vampire continued, "Do not concern yourself so much. I would not have let you die so needlessly. I too am under oath during this Debut. I simply wished to see what you could do." The vampire nodded in satisfaction. "You should suffice."

Vlad's eyebrows furrowed at that. "I should suffice?"

"Yes. Now take your seat." The Grand High Vampire glanced over Vlad's shoulder at the servant. "And as for you…"

The servant didn't even react when her head fell off her shoulders. She probably couldn't have, considering how fast it had happened. One moment, she was being attentive to her master's words and the next, there was blood spraying everywhere, her head on the floor before her body had probably even realized it was missing something. Vlad stared in silent horror at the servant's remains, trying very hard not to look at her now blank eyes.

There was a look of mild distaste on the Grand High Vampire's face. "There, justice delivered. Now your family cannot claim I have attacked unjustly. I have punished the one responsible. Such a pity though. I did like that rug."

Suddenly, Vlad had a feeling he was very lucky indeed that the Grand High Vampire had allowed the young vampire's previously insolent tone. He hadn't even seen the elder vampire move. Had it been magic? Or did the man move so quickly that Vlad hadn't even had a chance to see?

Either way, Vlad settled into his seat as he had been instructed to do and reined himself in. Now was not the time to forget he was in the presence of one of the most dangerous beings in the world. He would deal with his absolute terror at seeing the servant die before him at another time.

"As I was saying, you will suffice. You see, I must confess that I did bring you here for more than just wizard talk." The Grand High Vampire leaned over his desk to pull out one of the many books he had stacked. "For the next two events for the Debut attendees, I require some assistance. I will personally conduct the next event. But for the last, it is tradition to have another administer it."

It took a moment for Vlad to understand the Grand High Vampire's intentions. "Your Grandness, I apologize but I am not quite sure if I am qualified."

"You are more qualified than many others here, child. Not only because I say so, but because the last event requires a largely impartial administrator with the magical prowess to conduct the spell necessary for it."

Vlad did not think this was a good idea at all. "Your Grandness, I cannot possibly be impartial. My own sister and cousin are two of the debutantes this year."

"And yet, you do not seem to care very much. If you cared, why answer my invitation so readily? Why miss the chance to introduce yourself to more families to improve your sister's standing? I have even heard rumors that you do not even wish to be a vampire. Who better to give this task to? You will be a surprise to these debutantes, that is for sure. I have already given this task to too many of the same vampires."

That left Vlad speechless. He found he could not answer the Grand High Vampire and only looked at the elder vampire with newfound fear. Vlad could now see why this was not a vampire to cross.

"I shall take your silence as acceptance. A servant will guide you to the appropriate room when the time comes. Everything else you need to know about your role in the last event is in this book." The Grand High Vampire handed over the book he had picked up earlier and Vlad took it wordlessly. It was, thankfully, rather thin and small. "Do you understand?"

Vlad gathered what pieces of himself were still intact and knelt before the vampire world's ruler. "I understand, your Grandness."

"Good. Dismissed." The elder vampire sounded bored, as if now that he had gotten what he wanted out of Vlad, the younger vampire was no longer worth his attention.

Vlad did not hesitate to comply, swiftly standing and heading to the exit as quickly as was appropriate. He didn't quite care if the Grand High Vampire could sense his anxiety to escape at this point. Whatever composure he had coming in wasn't exactly in place anymore as he stepped over the servant's body on the way out.

Just as Vlad's palm touched the door handle, the Grand High Vampire spoke to him one last time.

"Oh, and Mr. Dracula? Do refrain from placing silencing spells in your room anymore. It certainly makes one wonder what you have to hide in the first place."

* * *

**Whew! That was a little longer of a chapter than usual. And different than what I have written before in the sense that this was my first real deviation from canon.**

**I decided to loosely base my vampire world on the TV show and expand upon it because I would like to include more of the vampire world in this story. I know from the show that there is a council and a Grand High Vampire. But the structure of it all in general was never really elucidated. So here's a brief breakdown of how I have set up my vampire government:**

**The High Council is made of two parts: a council and the upper nobility/royalty. The council is made up of elected lower nobility, who really deal with the nitty gritty of daily governing. They pass laws or some judgements with the nobility giving their input. The nobility - basically strong vampire families - are not technically government "employees", but are allowed their say because they would influence politics anyway. The Grand High Vampire has final say in everything though because, well, he would just take down whoever didn't comply.**

**I have the structure of vampire government and society a little more written out, so let me know if you want to know more about it. I just put a bit above in case it needed some clarification.**

**And the reason why I added the non-canon Danesi family is because, while reading up on the history of Vlad the Impaler, I saw that several of his ancestors killed off one another and thought it was a great opportunity to add in some good old blood feuds there. I will, though, try to keep the same vampire characters as in the original series (like the whole Ramanga issues and whatnot). I do like Darius by the way. He will have an interesting part in the story, at least in my mind as of now.**

**If you are from Romania or know a lot about Romania, please forgive me for any inaccuracies I write. I have personally never been to Romania and do not know much about it, so I tried my best. Please do give me feedback though!**

**Lastly, I wrote this in a mostly sleepy state. If there are any grammar issues please forgive me for that too.**

**Thank you for reading and continuing to read. Till next time!**


	37. The Debut: Part 2

Chapter 37: The Debut Part 2

When Olga had first met her cousin, Vladimir Dracula, she had not thought much of him. He was quiet and almost broody with none of the flair and confidence his father or sister seemed to have. She had expected a little more, considering how reputably prodigious he was supposed to be. But Olga had never been one to ignore good fortune when she received it and did not question her cousin any more than she had to. She already had enough competition for the Dracula throne without said competition being an actual threat.

In retrospect, it had been a foolish decision on her part to take Vlad at face value. She of all people should have known that there was always more beneath the surface. But very rarely had she ever had to face somebody as young as herself, especially amongst the vampires she had met. Many were decades and centuries older. It hadn't been hard for her to seem the innocent in every situation when vampires consistently overlooked her. Olga had spent so long playing her two masks that she forgot Vlad – barely a few years older than her – could play the same.

Not that she believed he did it intentionally. Not in the least. Vlad seemed too earnest to do such a thing and that made him all the more dangerous. Count Dracula, her father, Ingrid, Boris, and Vlad himself were all under the illusion that vampire life came hard for the Dracula heir. But Olga saw differently. Yes, Vlad was odd in many ways. But he was as devious as they came.

The first time she realized this was when he set up a privacy spell in his room following their audiences with the High Council. Vlad had done the magic so easily, so naturally, and had then shrugged it off like it was the most insignificant of actions. Perhaps it had not been much in comparison to other wizards or seasoned vampires, but it had Olga wondering how much people around Vlad underestimated his growth. If this was something he could do now, what would he be capable of by the time he became a fully fledged vampire?

He was what he wanted everybody to see and to make things worse, Vlad's complete lack of presence made it even easier for him. Few would look at the Dracula family and claim Vlad to be the definitive heir, and he was perfectly content with such a thing. Olga could see that her cousin had his father practically wound around his finger with everybody else close behind. Even Ingrid, for all of her apparent hatred of her family, gave her brother leeway in the smallest of things.

They were all fools for Vlad's tricks except for her. Olga had almost fallen into the same trap, but she was smarter than that – even if Vlad's sincerity was sometimes overwhelming. She didn't quite know what to do when he so obviously took her words into consideration when they spoke alone during the first few days of the Debut. And when he offered his help freely, she was a little stunned. How much of it was real or not, Olga had yet to discern. But she kept her guard up at all times because she knew better. Until she could fully make up her mind about Vlad, she would make sure to avoid provoking his ire.

It was a task Olga quickly learned was much easier said than done. Sometimes he was as much a fool as her brother and it was difficult not to imagine how satisfying it would be to strangle his neck a bit. The reception had been a prime example of such a time. Vlad had dressed appropriately, arrived with the family as planned, and stayed with them during the entire announcing of the debutantes. But as soon as the real event had begun, he had vanished without a trace and had left her to handle the hoard of vampires waiting their turn for a chance to interact the elder Draculas.

The night had dragged, despite the many vampires trying their very best to be polite to her. Normally, Olga reveled in such obvious display of her family's superiority. But it was admittedly tinged sour when almost every other question ran along the lines of "where could I meet your more powerful family members?" By the time the evening came to an end, she had probably spoken to at least a hundred different vampires – none of which were any more interesting than the last. It was with relief that she heard a member of the council announce the reception's end.

Ingrid and Boris had departed from them then to go to their separated quarters while Olga had followed her father and uncle back to their own rooms. Once there, they had found Vlad already on his bed, dressed in pajamas, and lying with an arm over his eyes. If Olga hadn't seen Vlad come down with them earlier that evening, she would have been inclined to believe he hadn't left his place at all.

Her uncle had only seemed mildly displeased to see his son so obviously removed from the Debut process. The man had admonished Vlad for a few minutes about the importance of clan. But when Vlad offered a defense that yes, he had spoken to a few lower ranking nobles to show his support of the Dracula name, the Count had not pursued the topic of his son's delinquency much longer. It must have been something the older vampire had expected and her own father had not deigned it important enough to add any further words.

Oh, the privileges of being the first male heir. She would not have gotten away with so paltry an excuse without all of her charm on maximum.

The next few days following the reception only made discerning her cousin all the more confusing. She had become accustomed to his company by now, almost expected it. With nobody else to speak to, Olga had anticipated yet more time sharing inane conversation with Vlad.

But Olga quickly came to realize that she wouldn't even have that this time around. More often than not, she found her cousin in the second floor library with his head buried in a book or ten. And while she did not hesitate to bother him, she found that Vlad had his mind on other things. It frustrated her because how was it that just a few days ago, he had shown no signs of bookishness? Olga would not have previously guessed Vlad to be a voracious reader. He was well studied, she knew. All Draculas were. But where this fervor for study had come from, she had no idea.

So many mixed messages, it made Olga wonder if even Vlad himself knew which version of him was real.

"What's got you so book happy?" she asked him on the second day following the reception.

Her cousin turned confused eyes to her, his brow furrowing at the question as his hand pushed a lock of hair aside. "What do you mean?"

Olga rolled her eyes. "You look like you haven't moved from this spot for days." She picked up a few of the books from the couch Vlad was sitting on and shoved them aside. Ignoring his protests, she seated herself beside him and crossed her arms.

Vlad shot her a baleful look as he rearranged his things. "There isn't much to do here. I'm just filling up empty time."

"What happened to exploring the castle?"

"We can't exactly find much more to it. Unless you've found something else we haven't before?"

She hadn't, but Olga strategically ignored the question. "You're awfully boring like this. I need entertainment."

"So ask the servants."

"Do you honestly think I'd waste more time than I need to on them?" the young vampiress scoffed. "Besides, you didn't like books so much before."

She heard Vlad sigh. "Believe it or not, Olga, I do read."

That was about as much as she managed to extract out of him for the remainder of her two hours there. No matter how she poked and prodded, Vlad remained determinedly bland and patient. It was the most aggravating thing Olga had ever experienced. So much so that she eventually gave up on her attempts at interaction and decided to wander off on her own.

Vlad could try to keep up this absolute conundrum of a personality, but sooner or later he wouldn't be able to hide anymore. And when that time came, Olga would be the first to say that she had known all along.

~0~

"Oh, stop your sniveling!" Ingrid snarled, throwing one of her pillows at her cousin. "So one of the Gabors tripped you in the halls. Deal with it."

If there was something that annoyed her more than incompetence, it was incompetence that was related to her. If Boris hadn't been a Dracula, she would have left him to trip down a flight of stairs days ago. The way things were going, the more detrimental it seemed to have him around. Vlad, at least, wasn't afraid of everything; he was just deluded. But Boris was another level of hopeless. He couldn't pretend to be a vampire even if he wanted to. Without glasses, he could barely see two feet in front of him.  _With_  glasses, he was walking target amongst the other debutantes who were ready to leap at the slightest sign of weakness.

And by garlic did Boris have his fair share of weaknesses.

It didn't help that her cousin continuously came to her for help. When they lived together in the castle back at Stokely, Boris had avoided her and stuck to Vlad. But now that all of the debutantes had rooms adjacent to each other and Bran castle prevented them from having contact with anybody else, she was the only familiar face to him.

Boris, the pathetic worm that he was, knew that she had to keep a unified front with him. As much as she might loathe him, they both knew the real enemies here were anybody who didn't have the last name Dracula. Ingrid might not be able to maim Boris now, but she was more than ready to do so once the Debut itself was over that was for sure. He did nothing to make this easier for her. So far, their family name and her own talent at cutting everybody with her words were enough. But almost everybody at this point could tell that Boris was the weak link.

As tense as every day was though, Ingrid had never felt more undead in her entire life. This was what she thrived upon and what got her frigid heart beating. This was only a taste of what was to come once she turned sixteen and a chance for her to get a good scope of the subjects she would one day have under her heel.

They would all bow to her one day. They just didn't know it yet.

Boris was looking at the ground, his arms up in case Ingrid decided to throw something else at him. "B-but –"

"Argh, you idiot! I thought our fathers beat that stutter out of you, but clearly they didn't do a good enough job. You're completely useless, you know that? The Gabors are barely high nobility. The fact that one of them managed to trip a Dracula is embarrassing. Now they'll all be talking about what a laughing stock you are."

"They were okay at the reception, though," Boris anxiously muttered.

"Of course they were," Ingrid sneered. She stood up from where she sat, too riled up now to be still. "That's the whole point of the reception. Did you really think anybody was going to do anything but worship us, the most noble Dracula household, there? You're an even larger fool than my brother."

Boris seemed to visibly deflate as Ingrid spoke. He nervously shifted in place and seemed to barely avoid wringing his hands. "I didn't really see Vlad at the reception. Do you think he's alright?"

"I suggest you worry less about my brother and worry more about yourself. If one of the others don't kill you by the end of this Debut, I  _will_  if you ruin my chances here."

She couldn't stand the stricken look upon Boris's face. He should have responded, threatened her in kind like a proper vampire. But of course he just stood there like a kicked puppy. Ingrid let out a frustrated breath and strode towards the door.

"Wait, where are you –"

"None of your business. Go back to your room and stay there until the next event. You're better locked up where you can't be more of an embarrassment to me."

Ingrid was out of earshot before her cousin could reply. She knew that anything he said next would have her punching him in the face. And then he would just complain more.

Her feet took her aimlessly into the depths of the castle. According to the Breather servants, they had free rein to explore. But very few of them did so because they were too wary of what each debutante had in store for the other. Ingrid, on the other hand, knew she could easily best any inferior who came her way and had proven it when a Vasile had tried to gut her in the hallways. The fool had found himself with a broken arm as a result and had been distinctly absent during the first event.

Oh, yes. They all steered clear of her after that.

As Ingrid turned the corner into one of the main passageways, her already poor mood worsened when she saw who was also roaming about. There was only one other debutante who was as bold as her.

Ingrid had the distinct displeasure of running into Will Danesi on a near daily basis. He was the only other contender who was even close to her status and Ingrid didn't like it at all. Nobody was supposed to vie for her spotlight and she hadn't been counting on a Danesi being the exact same age as her to do so. She knew she was the superior, of course, but the Danesi boy had the luck of being male and the eldest of his family. Nothing irritated Ingrid more than knowing that the Danesi's ranking edged near hers for things he didn't even have to work for.

They were all blind. She would do it better than any male firstborn ever could.

But Ingrid wasn't one to ignore the facts. Will Danesi was a formidable enemy. He was charming to those he wanted to charm and had a confidence that couldn't be shaken. He did everything as a vampire should and had clearly been raised as a proper heir. There was little he didn't have in terms of wealth and future power, but Ingrid had all of those things too and more. She was a Dracula and that already set them worlds apart.

The Danesi heir noticed her as quickly as she noticed him. Almost immediately, he paused in his walk and did something he always did when he saw her: smile.

Very few things in Ingrid's life could make her as furious as she felt when she saw the other boy smile. They were supposed to be enemies. She had no doubt Will Danesi knew that. But never would she have anticipated him to go about their family rivalries  _without_  violence and open hatred. He did everything Ingrid didn't expect and she was completely aware that he did so on purpose. The buffoon could tell how much his approach threw her off balance and there was nothing Ingrid would have liked more at times than to rip that smug grin off his face.

"Hello Ingrid."

"Don't 'hello' me, Danesi," the Dracula princess snarled. "And since when have I given you permission to use my first name?"

The other boy shrugged. "You are free to use my first name. In fact, I'd prefer it."

"Cut the act. You and I both know that you'd like nothing more than a chance to push me into the sun at your nearest convenience." Ingrid knew it was pointless to argue, but she couldn't help herself. Something about Will Danesi made her want to see him on his knees weeping for her mercy.

"Think what you will, Ingrid. But I personally think you're just getting your fangs in a knot. Even if I did want to push you into the sun at my nearest convenience, I certainly wouldn't try it here where there is a guaranteed truce, now would I?"

They both knew that was also a complete farce. True, there was a truce. But the extent of the truce had never been clarified and anything short of murder might be permitted. After all, the Vasile who had tried to maim Ingrid had not received any magical repercussion.

"I don't have time for this," Ingrid hissed, pushing past the Danesi in her way.

A hand grasped her arm, preventing her from moving any further. "But I," Will laughed, "have plenty of time."

They were close now, close enough for Ingrid to reach out and claw the other boy's eyes out and watch him bleed. She could sink her perfectly manicured nails into the soft flesh and teach him why the Danesi family was below the Draculas once and for all. He would bleed and know that it was all thanks to her. He wouldn't dare smile then, would he?

"Excuse my interruption, my Lord and Lady," a Breather servant said, bowing his head in apology. Both Ingrid and Will Danesi whipped their heads to the side, startled. Neither of them had noticed the servant nearby. "The second event is about to begin."

Ingrid immediately straightened, snatching her arm away from the Danesi heir with a glare. He was distracting her again, playing his tricks. She wasn't supposed to be focused on taking out her family's enemy. Not yet. Right here and now, she had a debut to shine in. That was her first and most important priority. Will Danesi was less than the floor she walked on. He was dirt and trying all the underhanded ways he could to usurp her position.

She would show him. She would show them all. Ingrid was much more than just a name on the Dracula family tree.

~0~

Boris Dracula had never asked to be a vampire. He wasn't cut out for this stuff. Not like his family. They all seemed to fit in perfectly. Even Vlad, probably the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend, fit in better. His cousin had a stuffed hellhound for bat's sake and a magical cat  _and_  went to a wizard school. At least Vlad was nice though. The rest of his family, his sister and Ingrid in particular, were something else. They almost scared him as much as his impending vampire-hood. Couldn't they just understand that this was hard for him? Surely they knew he didn't want to embarrass them. If it weren't for his early signs of vampiric magic, Boris would have admitted it himself that perhaps his father had accidentally picked up the wrong baby.

But here he was, in this year's Debut and failing miserably yet again. That was all he was, wasn't he? A failure. Nobody really thought he was worth anything. Garlic, even  _he_  thought he wasn't worth anything. It probably would've been better if he had been born to a family that wasn't as high profile. That way, he wouldn't even have to shoulder any expectations to begin with. Life would've been so much easier then.

Boris sighed and rubbed his glasses as he hurriedly crossed the hall to his room. Ingrid had kicked him out and he wasn't one to stay when he clearly wasn't wanted. On any normal day, the young vampire would have avoided going into his cousin's room at all. But she was the closest thing to safety now that he was surrounded by other vampires out for his blood. He wished that the stupid Debut didn't require the debutantes to stay away from their families. In fact, Boris wished the Debut didn't exist at all. Who cared where everybody ranked? He certainly didn't.

His room was relatively grand, more lavish in an archaic way than the homes his father normally bought when they moved and similar to the castle Vlad's family lived in. It was almost identical to Ingrid's room complete with a four post bed, writing table, fireplace, and attached bathroom. Boris found it the perfect place to hide and comfortable enough. He might've even enjoyed his time here if it weren't for the events and his impending birthday.

Every day, his magic became more and more uncontrollable. More often than not, he found himself flying in his sleep, dreaming of blood, and accidentally setting random objects on fire. His magic always flared at the most inopportune times and never when he wanted it to. It wasn't there when one of the other debutantes lashed out at him and did little but increase his sense of helplessness.

If only he wasn't so pathetic. Then maybe he could live up to his father's expectations and perhaps Olga wouldn't hate him so much. Then he would belong, really truly be a Dracula, and actually be happy as a vampire. Boris wouldn't mind it then. He was just horrified at the prospect of going through his transformation and finding it changed nothing, that he would remain weak and useless even as a vampire forever until the day he was staked. Being pitiful was bad enough. Being pitiful for all eternity was worse.

Boris sighed and sniffled. He settled down into his bed and reached for the notes he had made for his Blood Test months ago. Perhaps he wasn't the best vampire in many aspects, but he had ranked third out of all the debutantes in the written exam. It had been the only moment in his life he could remember being proud of something he had done. Boris carried around his study notes as a sort of reminder that maybe he could do some things right and as a way to constantly review. Maybe if a random test of knowledge ever arose, he could actually prove that he belonged here even a little.

A knock on his door pulled Boris out of his thoughts and he quickly scrambled up. He fiercely hoped that it wasn't another one of the other debutantes. The young vampire could hide in his room if that were the case, but then he knew the others would tease him incessantly for it and spread the rumors that Boris Dracula was not only clumsy but also a coward.

Boris breathed a sigh of relief when he only saw a servant through the door's peephole. The only beings in the entire castle that he liked and felt a little more at ease with were the Breathers. Boris laughed a little nervously and opened the door, hastily taking off his glasses like his father and Uncle Count had told him to always do around others. He took a deep breath and controlled himself before saying a little shakily, "Yes?"

The Breather was an older man, perhaps in his twenties. His straw blond hair was almost orange in the low candlelight and it seemed to dance with the shadows. His expression, however, was not quite so animated and as blank as all the other servants. "My Lord, the second event is about to begin."

"Already?" Boris asked, puzzled at the lack of warning. He waited expectantly for more information. But when it was clear that there was none forthcoming, he continued, "Um, is it going to be anywhere in particular?"

"No, my Lord," the Breather replied quickly and curtly. He stood completely unmoving at the threshold of the room. "There is only one rule: do not get caught."

More confused than ever, Boris only stared at the servant. Was he missing something? "Well, then. Uh. When does it start exactly?"

"Less than a minute, my lord."

At that, Boris almost yelped. He was going to be late! Wherever or whatever the next event was going to be, he wouldn't be there for it. Completely disregarding the still-standing Breather, Boris lurched back into his room to quickly grab the nearest presentable cape to wear. He hastily threw his glasses on to bring the room back into focus and nearly tripped over an ottoman in the process. He threw open the closet after some maneuvering around the room and nervously hoped that whatever he chose wouldn't shame his family.

"Hey, could you at least give me an idea of what I'm going into maybe? It would help me –"

This time, Boris  _did_  yelp as he just barely dodged the servant lunging at him. His mind didn't quite register what was happening until his eyes caught sight of – oh, bats was that a  _cleaver_?!

Boris shouted aloud and immediately began running towards the door, hearing the Breather behind him extracting the weapon that had sunken into the wood with a loud crack. What was happening? Weren't servants supposed to be forbidden from attacking vampires? Boris shot into the hallway outside, casting a glance around him only to see in rising horror that he was not alone in this nightmare. Within the brief few seconds since the servant had begun to attack him, other Breathers seemed to have also started attacking the debutants.

Boris had little time for thought as he heard his particular assailant close behind. He desperately ran in what seemed to be the least populated section of the passageway and tried to block the alarmed screams that were beginning to fill the air. He gasped aloud as another female servant with a spear swung her weapon overhead, expecting to be cleaved in half. Then he watched in shock as she ignored him completely and continued to pursue another debutante who had passed close by.

Immediately, Boris paid for his temporary distraction. A sharp pain stabbed his left arm, and it was probably only sheer dumb luck that the servant had missed the jab. Boris yelled in fear as he grasped his now-bleeding arm and forced his legs to carry him faster. He hoped the cut wasn't too deep because already, he could feel warm liquid coating his right hand.

His breaths were becoming labored already and Boris realized with rising terror that he had not brought his inhaler with him. If he had an attack now, how was he going to escape?

Boris had no choice but to duck into a room once he could no longer hear the Breather behind him. His pants were coming in loud, ragged intervals and his lungs were tight. His glasses were so coated in sweat that Boris could barely see beyond his own two feet and he was beginning to feel dizzy. He leaned against the door of the room, sliding down to the floor in exhaustion.

This was madness. Why were servants attacking everybody? Surely by now the Grand High Vampire had heard what was happening and would set things right soon so that they could begin the next event.

Boris blinked. Unless…this  _was_  the second event? There had only been one rule, he remembered. Don't get caught.

Blood and garlic, he was so very screwed.

Then the door seemed to explode. Shards of wood flew into the room, some slashing Boris's face. A single arm holding a cleaver, bloodied from hacking a hole through the entrance, pulled back to be replaced by the blond servant's head, eyes searching the room until they zeroed in upon the boy gaping in terror below. Boris was screaming before he even knew he had opened his mouth and scrambled to his feet to escape. Whatever sense of tiredness had plagued him before seemed to vanish. Instead, he was trying desperately to find another exit even as he heard the Breather forcing the door open.

There was no other way out. Boris hastily tried to put distance between himself and the servant, but already the debutante could see that the Breather was blocking the door.

If only his powers would work now! Boris felt terrified, sick, and frustrated. Why was he the only one who could never do anything? What good were vampire powers when he couldn't control them to do something as simple as surviving? He tried to feel for it, tried to coax his powers out to help. But there was nothing and Boris was most definitely  _not_  crying.

"Let me go, please! I'm a Dracula. My family will get you whatever you want!"

There wasn't even a single flicker of reaction on the Breather's face at the plead. He was like an emotionless automaton.

Boris was desperate. He wasn't ready to die yet, not like this. He had always known that he might be doomed one day, but not so soon! He was so terrified all he wanted to do was break down and huddle on the floor. But sheer survival instinct pushed him to keep trying. Boris jumped abruptly, darting to the right in an effort to pull the Breather away from the door. But the quick movement only seemed to make the servant react and suddenly  _throw_  his cleaver where Boris was moving. The un-Turned vampire saw it coming as if in slow motion, timed perfectly to make contact with his left side.

Boris closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst.

~0~

Idle time, Vlad found, did not sit well with his family. He had not missed Olga's many tries at getting a rise out of him and, with nothing else to do, he couldn't blame her. Vlad would have gladly instigated conversation with Olga himself if he didn't have the Grand High Vampire's assigned task hanging over his head. His cousin was fairly decent company when she wished to be. But for now, Vlad had more things to worry about than Olga's sensibilities.

The last few days had consisted of intense study, all of his focus dialed into the words upon words before him. The book the young vampire had been given to read – a book with no title – was thin and concise with clear instructions on how to carry out his given role in the last event. But it made many assumptions about the reader's knowledge on vampire lore and magic, forcing Vlad to plunder the only library he had access to in the castle to help his understanding. The Grand High Vampire had overlooked the  _tiny_  detail that while Vlad did have experience with magic, he did not have much personal experience with  _vampire_  magic.

That hadn't even been the worst of it. The most agonizing thing about the entire process so far was that this was magic he could not practice on his own. It required the appropriate setting and subjects to be present for him to even know if the spell worked. There was the very real possibility that he could walk into the final event fully armed with information and still fail in casting the spell needed.

Vlad tried not to think about it because failure meant an irritated Grand High Vampire. And an irritated Grand High Vampire could very easily make life difficult for him. It wasn't much of a surprise that the entire thing left Vlad in a dour mood.

It was the fifth day after the reception when Vlad finally got his summons. He had barely finished the last page of the small book the Grand High Vampire had given him before a servant came walking into the library. The Breather had immediately requested Vlad's presence and extended a new set of robes for him.

Vlad had been so engrossed in trying to learn everything before his due date that he had forgotten his nerves. But seeing the servant standing before him made it real. This was happening. He was about to go try magic he had never actually attempted before and perhaps lose any anonymity he still had in the vampire community. If he failed, Vlad would shame his family and incur the displeasure of the Grand High Vampire. And who knew what it would mean to be on the wrong side of the vampire ruler? Vlad would not have hesitated to fail this task if he hadn't been keenly aware that the vampire ruler could do anything as punishment. Vampires were not known for their mercy and after Vlad had seen what the man had done to his own servant, he wasn't so sure he wanted to place his future and his family's future in the Grand High Vampire's hands.

Vlad was stuck between some garlic and a stake, but he already knew which of the two he would pick. He had spent the last five days doing almost nothing but learning the spell, after all.

"My master has very specific instructions for you," the servant said dutifully. "First, you are to behave as becoming of an administrator. No deviating from the instructions given to you. Second, you are to give my master a full report upon the event's completion. He warns that anything less will not be acceptable. Third, you must not hold back. He expects your complete and unhindered participation in this event."

The Grand High Vampire knew full well that Vlad did not want this duty and had given him a reminder that his wishes did not matter. For the first time, his vampirism wasn't what was making him feel trapped. This time, it was a real tangible being who had made it a personal project to test Vlad and it made him simmer with a defiance he could not act on. There was too much at risk to ignore the orders. For now, Vlad would do as he was told because he had no choice.

_But we'll see how long that lasts…_

"I was instructed to help you dress, my Lord," the servant was continuing, unfolding the robes he had brought with him. "They were adjusted for your size since you are far younger than the previous administrators. May I?"

Vlad didn't argue and only nodded his permission. It was far from unusual for Breather servants to dress the vampires they served, but Vlad had always dressed himself. He preferred it that way; it was more normal. But it was a minor point now and not one he was going to waste his energy on.

The robes themselves were surprisingly simple and a far cry from the ceremonial garb Vlad expected. The cloth was of the finest material, but it boasted no ornate patterns. There were no reds or golds to accentuate it, only black – the fundamental color all vampires wore. The cloak's collar almost swallowed his face, apparently not adjusted enough for his stature and Vlad was glad for it. He didn't want to show himself more than he had to for this. But he pitied the servant who had been tasked with the adjustments. The Grand High Vampire would most likely punish them for inadequate work no matter how difficult it must have been to do so without Vlad there for measurements.

Once he was dressed to the servant's satisfaction, they exited the library and Vlad once again followed one of the Grand High Vampire's servants towards a summons.

Vlad knew already what had most likely begun a few hours ago. According to the book he had been given, the second event wasn't truly a second event at all. It was simply the preliminary for the spell that was to come, a measure of physical capacity, and probably a good scare to the future debutantes for good measure.

His role was to track each debutante down and cast a final spell that would force them into their dreamworlds, where vampires went in their sleep once they were close to the age of sixteen. It was where young vampires manifested their greatest fears, obtained advice from their guides, and sometimes saw the future. The dreamworld was more than just a state of mind; it was very real and several texts had warned him death in the dreamworld meant death in the real world as well.

It wasn't enough that vampires faced danger on a daily basis, was it? They also had to watch for their lives in their dreams. It was typical, really, when Vlad thought about it.

The book stated that the purpose of the final test was to stretch each young vampire's mental strength. The spell would facilitate entrance into the dreamworld, forcing everybody into induced sleep. Those who were strong would face their fears and overcome it, waking up as an indication of their success. Those who couldn't overcome their fears were awoken manually by the administrator and publicly deemed a failure to all of vampire society.

Vlad's job would not be easy, he knew. The debutantes would be paranoid, suspicious, exhausted, and desperate. It was more than likely that none of them had been told exactly what was happening and Vlad knew that at this stage, they would rather attack first than talk. So not only would Vlad have to find each soon-to-be-vampire and subdue them, but he would also have to cast a spell he was not familiar with at the same time.

The servant finally stopped at the edge of a great hallway dividing the east and west portions of the castle. Vlad knew this because he and Olga had tried multiple times to find their way to the debutante's rooms only to be rerouted. But this time, it seemed, the young vampire would finally be allowed access.

"The debutantes are properly scattered now, my lord," the servant bowed, extending an arm to indicate the passageway towards the West Wing. "None of them are allowed beyond the western portion of the castle. But there are no other restrictions."

Vlad took a shaky breath, taking in the dark path lit only by a scattering of torches. A part of him was screaming to turn around and forget all of this - to turn and run as fast as he possibly could.

But he had been here at the crossroads before, in the maze for the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets.

Turning back had never been an option.

* * *

**Things do tend to go from 1 to 100 really quickly in the vampire world don't they?**

**On a more mundane note, this is a shorter chapter than the ones I have been writing recently (and I had planned to make it much longer), but I finally decided that I might as well post what I have written already so that I do not leave you guys dry for another couple of months. As a result, this was more of a "transition" chapter. This entire portion had been languishing on my laptop for a good 3 months now, but I could not quite get the next portion written to my liking.**

**And as always, please forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes. I do try to read through for errors, but more often than not I miss small thins here and there.**

**Look forward to the final event next chapter! Till next time!**


	38. The Debut: Part 3

**Chapter 38: The Debut Part 3**

Vlad lurched to the side, his shoulder scraping heavily against the wall as he moved out of arm's reach.

"K-keep away from me!" exclaimed a debutante as he lashed out. He was from one of the smaller noble families, but fairly aggressive.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Vlad ground out for what seemed to be the fifth time. He didn't know how long he had been in the castle's West Wing or how many debutantes he had come across, but he had stopped trying to keep track after he had captured two dozen.

The first debutante he had found had been hiding in a closet away from a nearby wandering mace-holding Breather. Vlad had been startled to see the servant, unaware that this was specifically how the Grand High Vampire was carrying out the second task. But when the servant made no move to harm Vlad himself, he came to learn (with much relief) that each Breather had a specific debutante target they were told to focus on and nobody else.

Vlad's first attempt at casting the spell hadn't gone smoothly – largely due to the fact that, as predicted, the debutante had immediately moved to maim. It took quite a bit of dodging and missed spells before Vlad had finally hit the debutante with a  _Petrificus Totalus._  Then, as the older candidate watched Vlad with panicked eyes, the young vampire proceeded to try the spell he had been studying for the past days. Vlad didn't even need to think as the words flowed from his mouth and he felt the familiar rush of magic lying beneath his skin come roaring to life in response.

Vampires did not use spells. The fact that the event required an enchantment at all had surprised Vlad and further reading had corroborated his suspicions: this was not usual vampire magic. The book had never clarified where the spell had come from, but Vlad had wondered if this was a remnant from times when wizards and vampires  _did_  mingle. From what he had read, past administrators had only needed to repeat the words of the enchantment and guide the magic. But Vlad, still mortal, wasn't so sure if he would produce the same results as those who had come before him.

The spell was strong and required a lot of power to maintain. This was a problem for the administrator since the magic had to be cast on more than one individual. But the spell had been created to pull magic and power from the receivers so that it could be an almost self-sustaining enchantment.

Vlad's own magic controlled how much came from each person and channeled it into the spell. He had to make sure the spell maintained itself for  _every_  debutante he ran into and for the  _entire_  duration of the test. Not much was needed from each and the weaker the contributor, the less likely their magic would resist the pull. Some with more strength would contribute less, their magic fighting the pull, while the others who were weaker would contribute more. Vlad had to balance it all and it was finite control of magic he had never done before. It was probably a sheer miracle he hadn't lost track of it all already. For all of his studying, this portion he had to do on sheer instinct.

The first time he became linked to another being's magic through the enchantment had been an odd feeling. Like an unfamiliar strength that wasn't quite his. But Vlad hadn't had much time to dwell on it; once the debutante's eyes had fallen closed and Vlad was fairly sure the spell had done its job, he wasted no time in moving on.

Capturing debutantes was becoming progressively easier. Each and every one of them were shaken and Vlad had the unfair advantage of being able to access his magic. The debutantes were indeed Turning this year, but none of them had actually undergone their transformation yet. So while they were vicious in their physical attacks, and an impressive few had even managed to wrestle weapons from their Breather attackers, it often took no more than a couple of simple spells straight from a first or second year Hogwarts textbook to have them down.

There was even a sort of pattern to it now: try to reason verbally with the debutante first out of sheer decency, dodge an inevitable attack to ward him off, cast a  _Petrificus Totalus_  or  _Locomotor Mortis_  here and there, and then send the debutante off to their respective dreamworlds.

"I don't believe you," Vlad's current debutante target spat. "What's a kid like you doing here anyway –"

Mouthier than the rest, a method of controlling his uncertainty? Vlad wasn't quite sure, but he took the opportunity to snap his fingers and murmur a petrifying curse. It didn't even take another minute before the older boy was lying unconscious on the floor.

The servant who had been assigned to this debutante came from the shadows, moving forward as the others had to pick up the debutante and carry him off. Vlad didn't ask where they were taken, but he figured it was probably to a designated area outside of the current task's boundaries. He was turning around, about to move further down the dimly lit hall, when the Breather spoke.

"My lord," the servant spoke softly, deferentially. "His Grandness would like to inform you that there are three left."

Three. Vlad was so close. Soon, this would all be over. He was feeling numb now, just trying to finish his task. But he knew that after all this was finished, he would look back and wince at how he was so blatantly throwing about the magic he had been learning at Hogwarts to further a vampire's agenda. What sort of sick test was this, to throw a bunch of teenagers into some arbitrarily terrifying nightmare? If they were all just normal to begin with, this wouldn't be happening at all. Vlad was fairly sure humans didn't do these things on purpose and he knew for a fact that wizards didn't – even if wizarding students did coincidentally end up in horrifying situations regardless.

But getting lost in his thoughts wouldn't help. There was nothing Vlad could do to change thinngs now and the faster he finished, the faster he could leave it all behind.

He was further in the West Wing now, nothing but silence to accompany him as he searched the darkness. Catching the debutantes was one thing; finding them was almost harder.  _Homenum Revelio, Point Me_ , and spotting probing servants were a fairly good tools to indicate that he was headed in the right direction. But none of it was any good if Vlad was absolutely nowhere near a debutante. All he could do was search where he hadn't already.

As he searched the shadows, his eyes unhindered by the dim lighting, Vlad realized with startling clarity that he knew exactly who the last three left were. He had yet to find his sister or his cousin. Or the Danesi heir, for that matter.

Suddenly, it was all the more urgent to find them because who knew what they were all getting tangled in? This sort of set up was not ideal to launch a revenge attack, but Vlad knew how deeply grudges ran between families and the Danesi/Dracula feud was perhaps the most infamous. For all the young vampire knew, his sister and cousin were running from Breather servants  _and_ Will Danesi.

Fate, it seemed, was on his side for once when he heard a crash not too far away.

~0~

Ingrid was furious, exhausted, and maybe a little scared. The first she was familiar with. The second, less so. For all of her upbringing, excessive physical activity had never been one of great emphasis. After all, she wouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing once she Turned. But she could deal with it, could force herself to keep moving out of sheer will.

The last was something she  _didn't_ know how to deal with.

Ingrid Dracula was confidence personified. Beautiful and perfect. A princess. Her family was one of ancient bloodline and great power. She wasn't supposed to be afraid.

But fear was not something you could control so easily and she was perhaps learning that for the first time. Logically, she knew this wasn't really a threatening test. They had all entered here under a safety contract. The Grand High Vampire would not be so rash as to make an enemy of the noble families. Yet, her heart (stupid, silly thing) was beating a hundred miles a second and she couldn't quite stop the trembling in her hands.

Hence, her anger. How could she, a Dracula, allow herself to be so weak?

Her only comfort came in the form of an equally fearful Will Danesi.

The Danesi heir was breathing quick, shallow gasps. His eyes were constantly darting back and forth with the look of a startled deer. But he hadn't stopped moving since the Breather servant had first attacked the both of them and he didn't hesitate to act when needed.

It hadn't taken long for either debutante to realize what the second event was. It was hard  _not_ to when there was a servant chasing them with a sword in his hands. This was a test of survival and all they had to do was follow the instructions: don't get caught. And so far, they hadn't. They had evaded each swing of deadly steel, each close call, by working together. It drove Ingrid mad to know that she had to share motivations with a Danesi. But both of them knew it was better to temporarily be on the same side…until one of them found the perfect opportunity to dispose of the other.

So, yes, they escaping from a sword-wielding Breather. But they were also constantly watching each other for any sign of betrayal.

It was tiring and Ingrid had no idea how long they had been doing this. It seemed like hours had passed, maybe even a day. But she would not give up. She would be the last one standing.

"No, he's going down that corridor," Will hissed, pulling her back as she moved to turn the corner of one hallway.

Ingrid saw the moving shadow and quickly retreated a step. She didn't thank the Danesi heir. Instead, she raised her index finger to her lips to signal silence before they dodged down another branch of halls and into a study room. Once Ingrid confirmed there was another exit door, Will took painstaking care to quietly shut the entrance they had come from. They had, for a time, hidden in rooms hoping that the servant would lose them. But they both quickly learned it was better to simply keep moving rather than corner themselves into a place the Breather could eventually find them. Now, they only took quick reprieves to gather themselves.

"How much longer do you think we have?" the Danesi boy whispered.

Ingrid shot him an irritated look. "What makes you think I would know?"

Will shrugged, irritatingly blasé. "They can't keep going like this. There must be something we have to do to complete this event."

Ingrid had been thinking along the same lines, but she was certainly not going to agree with a family enemy. She merely raised an eyebrow and sat in one of the chairs nearby. "We just need to avoid getting caught."

"It can't be that simple."

"Maybe it is."

The Danesi heir ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a brief sigh. "Well, whatever it is, we have to keep moving, Ingrid."

"I told you to  _stop calling me that_."

"I don't get what the big deal is," Will scoffed. "It's just your name."

Ingrid drew herself up and narrowed her eyes. "I am of the Dracula household. I will not allow you to address me so casually. You must treat me with the respect I deserve –"

"The respect you  _deserve_?" The Danesi heir rolled his eyes. "I hardly think you've done anything to  _deserve_  –"

"What does it matter what you think? It is fact that I deserve respect as a Dracula."

"A  _Dracula._ " There was a mocking tone in Will's voice now that Ingrid had yet to hear. "Always so proud to be a  _Dracula._ But how is that relevant to you at all? You're not exactly first in line for the Dracula throne, are you? Because you're a  _girl_ , right?"

"You dare…?" Ingrid felt her fury building, whatever fear she had been feeling burned away in her anger. "If you think that I am any less capable than a  _boy_ , then you have something coming for you, Danesi. You can hardly say anything when your own pathetic family name always comes second –"

"And whose fault do you think that is?"

"Your own," Ingrid spat, tired but suddenly satisfied because  _finally_  they were interacting as she had been expecting since the very beginning and he was no longer confusing her by calling her name and having her back. "It takes strength to rise from mediocrity and it is hardly my family's fault that the Danesit are barely half-rate."

"How would you know? You've been raised all your life to think you're perfect and untouchable –" Will stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "Move!"

Ingrid had barely a second to comprehend what the Danesi heir had said before he was grabbing her shoulder and throwing them both down to the ground. She felt her palms stretch out instinctively to break the fall, just as  _something_  flew past her head and collided with the opposing wall.

She reoriented herself immediately, her focus narrowing in on the source of the attack. They had been foolish. In their sudden argument, they had forgotten to keep their voices down and now they had been discovered. Ingrid angrily wanted to hit something, but knew she had to find a way out. Her eyes were searching the room, finding the exit she had located earlier. But then she saw what exactly had been thrown at her and she froze.

Splattered against the stone wall was the head of the Breather who had been chasing them.

Ingrid was not squeamish. What sort of vampire was? But she couldn't stop the visceral disgust and shock she felt at the sight and she whirled around to see who had taken out their pursuer.

What she saw had her nearly speechless, even more so than the thrown severed head.

"Boris?" Ingrid finally managed to gasp out. She had to check, had to make sure her eyes weren't tricking her.

He was almost unrecognizable. It was beyond the blood painting almost all of his clothes a deep red. There was genuine power emanating from him like a choking smog and he stood with a sort of confidence Ingrid had never thought him capable of. There was no sign of the glasses he normally wore and his eyes burned crimson as he stood at the door, watching them.

"Ingrid…?" Even his voice was different, tinged with something just not quite right.

"That's your  _cousin_?" Will demanded. Boris was well known by now to be anything  _but_  the horrifying visage in front of them.

Ingrid couldn't reply because Boris suddenly burst into almost manic laughter at the Danei heir's question. He raised a hand – also drenched to the sleeves in blood – to his mouth in what seemed to be an effort to stifle his guffaws. "Oh, he doesn't recognize me. Of course he doesn't. Because I'm not  _weak_  anymore."

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Ingrid would have been delighted at her cousin's sudden turn-around if it hadn't been for the distinct sense that he wasn't quite all there.

"Aren't you glad?" Boris was grinning now, looking directly at Ingrid. "Aren't I finally a Dracula?"

Ingrid's mouth was moving before she could properly censor herself. "Took you long enough."

"Too long," her cousin agreed. "If only I had this power before. Then, I wouldn't have to be afraid of anybody…not even  _you._ "

"Well you don't have to be afraid of me  _yet._  Just wait until I Turn –"

Will slapped a hand over her mouth. "Are you stupid?"

But he hadn't acted fast enough. The unnervingly genial look on Boris's face had vanished to be replaced with one darkened with irritation. "You're right. You would just get in my way. But you're not Turned yet are you?" He ran a tongue over his teeth and his eyes flashed. "I wouldn't have to worry if I got rid of you right now."

"Shit."

For once, Ingrid agreed completely with the Danesi heir. They both moved in unison, dashing abruptly for the only other exit in the room. They were almost there, almost free to hide and run from a new pursuer, but the heavy table at the center was sent flying over their heads to block the door. It landed with an almighty crash, one of the table legs breaking off in a shower of wooden shards. Will and Ingrid had no choice to stop in their tracks and cover their faces to protect themselves.

Ingrid felt her stomach sinking. They were trapped with a bloodthirsty Boris. A bloodthirsty Boris with  _vampire powers_. There was absolutely no way she was going to make it out of this. But maybe if she could somehow stall…

The Dracula princess turned around with a resolved pull to her lips. "You've won here, Boris. Congratulations. But what makes you think you can do this without any consequences?"

Boris clucked is tongue, as if the answer were obvious. He stepped further into the room as he spoke, "There won't be any consequences. After all, I'm not going to touch your friend there. But who would care if you disappeared? That would be a family matter and, well, this would just prove that I am stronger. My father will be thrilled."

"That's it?" Ingrid was pulling at straws, watching her cousin's every move as he came closer and closer. "That's your plan? You're just going to roll over and play dog to Uncle Ivan? What sort of vampire are you?"

"Who said that will be it? I'll make my father proud by eliminating you first. Then, I'll take the family throne." Boris took in a deep breath, as if drunk on his own strength. "Nobody can stand up to me now."

It was good to know that Boris, for all of his changes, was still delusional. "You do realize that your plans include getting rid of Vlad too, then? He is heir."

Something flickered across her cousin's face. "He will be easy to deal with."

Then, further across the room, an almost small voice interrupted them.

"What?"

It was like some perverted version of a family reunion. Hovering at the door where Boris had been not so long ago stood Vlad, dressed in a dark cloak with the collar high enough to shadow a portion of his lower face. His grey-blue eyes were wide as they took in the scene before him and shone with a touch of shock.

"Vlad?" Boris said, just as confused as the rest of them. "What – how are you here?"

Vlad didn't answer. He only ran his gaze over his cousin's bloody form, over Ingrid's and Will's cautious stances, and briefly over to the destroyed table and severed head somewhere behind them. His lips were thin and his eyebrows were taut. That was his distressed expression, Ingrid knew.

"Vlad!" she shouted over to him. She had to get him to act fast because his fortuitous entrance would only distract Boris for so long. "Boris has lost his mind! He's –"

That was as far as she got before Boris was choking her, his bloody hands suddenly crushing her. Ingrid fought, scratching at any surface she could get her hands on. She wasn't going to die like this. Not to Boris. She kicked, bit, and lashed out with everything she had. But she didn't need to do so for long. Not even a few seconds later, she was breathing again, coughing and trying to reorient herself. Somebody – Will – was keeping her from collapsing by gripping her shoulders. It took a few moments more before her head wasn't spinning anymore. When she did manage to finally look up, she saw her brother and cousin at each other's throats.

Vlad's eyes were brighter than she had ever seen them and hardened in a way that took her aback almost as much as Boris's red eyes had. They were still blue, still Vlad, but he moved with a fury and determination. Neither of them were particularly refined in their movements, but they were toe-to-toe and that was saying something when her brother was four years younger than her cousin.

Boris was throwing everything possible at Vlad, moving whole bookshelves and statues with only a wave of his hands. But the younger boy could defend against them, his lips always moving and muttering what Ingrid could only assume were spells one after another. A translucent barrier of sorts was surrounding Vlad, held in place by an extended left hand to block Boris's onslaught. Vlad was fiercely concentrated, his entire attention diverted to his task. But Boris was almost frantic and shouting angrily.

"You can't stand up to me! You do not have my power!"

Vlad ignored the words completely. For a few seconds, it seemed that all her brother was doing was blocking and dodging. But then, one of his spells must have landed because one moment Boris was backing up on his feet while throwing objects telepathically, and the next he was being hauled up into the air feet first by some invisible force.

Vlad wasted no time. The moment the spell took hold, he was snapping his fingers and casting another that froze Boris rigid. He could no longer move, his arms suddenly locked to his sides and his every muscle stiffened. Only his eyes flickered about in frantic fury and unrepentant loathing. If looks could kill, Vlad would have been long dead.

Ingrid was not one to linger when Boris's volatile vampire powers could free him at any second. She forced herself to her feet, and stormed over to where her family was, trekking over the disaster they had left behind. Will, she could sense, was not far behind her.

"You need to knock him out," she said the moment she was level with Vlad. "Before he tries to kill us all again."

Her brother barely twitched at her arrival. He only briefly closed his eyes before nodding mutely. Vlad snapped his fingers and intoned, " _Liberacorpus."_ Boris fell heavily to the floor, his body landing with an unceremonious thump. He was still frozen in the same position and it would have been comical had their lives not been in mortal danger. " _Somnium_."

Ingrid watched her cousin's eyes fall closed, glancing at Vlad. "Is he…?"

"Asleep," the younger vampire supplied quickly with a note of undisguised distaste in his voice. "Not what you were thinking, Ingrid."

A part of her, a deep part of her, was relieved to hear that. She wasn't so sure how she would have reacted if her twelve-year-old younger brother had killed a member of their family in cold blood. Ingrid figured it was only in her best interest to keep Vlad soft. If Vlad wasn't still an emotional fool, it would have made her goal to sit on the Dracula throne that much harder.

"Good to know that you're not useless after all," she said in reply. "You were barely in time."

Vlad's lips quirked upwards at that. "You're welcome, Ingrid."

"So Vlad Dracula, huh?"

The younger vampire glanced over when the Danesi heir spoke. Almost immediately, a sheepish flush colored his cheeks. "I didn't mean to hide it from you or Darius."

Will's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Was that an apology?"

Ingrid wasn't quite sure when her brother and Will Danesi had met (or who this Darius was), but she quickly snapped, "Of course not." She looked at Vlad meaningfully. "It was just a statement of fact."

"Whatever you say," Will responded in practiced indifference. "But your brother isn't exactly as I imagined him."

Oh, of course. Almost everybody expected Vlad to be something almost otherworldly. He was wizard-trained, as Ingrid was reminded more than she cared to be. He was special. And as far as her father was concerned, he had been special since the day he had been born. Familiar annoyance flicked in Ingrid's chest, because Vlad  _had_  just faced Boris alone and won. While she had barely able to handle a little bit of choking. More than ever, she couldn't wait for her Turning.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vlad smiled, a little bitter. "For the record, I'm sorry for this."

"For what?"

A click of fingers. " _Petrificus Totalus."_

Ingrid watched in fascination as the Danesi heir stood frozen, just like Boris. "I must say," she smirked. "I'm impressed." Who knew Vlad had it in him to do this? Maybe all of their father's lessons on their family enemies had sunk in after all. "Now maybe we can find our way out of here and finish this absolutely batty event." She paused, something dawning upon her. "Wait...why  _are_  you get here with us?"

The look on Vlad's face was all Ingrid had to see to realize that there was more to her brother's appearance than a simple rescue.  _Don't get caught._  "No," she frowned, refusing to believe it. "You – you wouldn't."

"I'm sorry, Ingrid." And he really did seem sorry. His eyes shone with regret and a million apologies. But it took all of her willpower just to keep looking at Vlad. "I have no choice."

The snap of his fingers was impossibly loud.

~0~

"Some congratulations are in order, child."

Vlad realized that his absolute refusal to look at the Grand High Vampire in the eyes was childish and borderline rude, but he did so anyway. The young vampire hadn't had a chance to actually speak or meet with his family since the event and spell had ended, having been immediately ushered to the Grand High Vampire's study with all haste. There was a burning pit of deep resentment simmering inside of him at the sight of the elder vampire, and he didn't want to give the Grand High Vampire the satisfaction of knowing how much the entire ordeal had affected him. It had actually hurt to put his family down – even if it was just into their dreamworlds. They had both looked at Vlad like he had become some monster and a great part of him agreed. What sort of person forced a spell on family like that?

"Thank you, your Grandness," the young vampire said, reining in his anger.

"You performed admirably and the spell was a success," the elder vampire stood up from his seat, his robes falling about him in stately prominence. "You are the youngest administrator in all of vampire history."

It was supposed to be an accomplishment, Vlad knew. So he nodded and repeated, "Thank you, your Grandness."

The Great High Vampire craned his neck to look at the boy in front of him. A sparkle of what Vlad hoped wasn't further interest. "I would ask how you managed it."

"Just the same as any other," Vlad replied politely but concisely. "I simply followed the book."

There was certainly more to it, but there was nothing he could say verbally that would make sense of how he had controlled the incantation. So much of it had been instinct and simple experience with magic prior to his assignment to be the administrator. He couldn't have explained it even if wanted to.

The Grand High Vampire didn't press the topic, only continued to wax poetic phrases about Vlad's prowess. He was all charm and approval now. But Vlad hadn't forgotten how dangerous the man in front of him could be and it took all his control to remain completely stoic.

The last event had run its course and completed a few hours ago. Unsurprisingly to Vlad, Ingrid had been the one to awaken first despite being the last to fall under the spell. She was not one to run from her fears and he knew from experience that she attacked things head-on. So Ingrid Dracula had been named top among the debutantes for her ability to break free of her dreamworld. Will Danesi had followed after her to the surprise of no one and Boris had awoken fifth – probably through sheer arrogance at his newfound powers.

"Your exemplary performance shall be noted, I'm sure," the Grand High Vampire was saying. "You exceeded expectations. There is certainly more to you than meets the eye, Vladimir Dracula."

Vlad eyed the elder vampire, his hands tightening the slightest bit. "But you already knew, didn't you, your Grandness?"

A flicker of a smile touched the man's lips. "I am the Grand High Vampire. How could I not? Any vampire of note under my rule must be tested and kept in check. You see, I keep order. And perhaps now that the all debutantes have seen your abilities, you will no longer move with such anonymity." Something sharper touched the elder vampire's eyes. "I do not appreciate dangerous mysteries amongst my subjects."

So this had been a test and means of exposing him to the vampire community. It was a pat on the head and leash attached in one stroke. There was no way that the noble children who had been practically attacked by Vlad wouldn't tell their families about the Dracula heir. He might be complimented for his power and growing ability. But the Grand High Vampire was making it clear that he would not allow Vlad to grow unchecked. This was the elder vampire's way of drawing the line in the sand. His ultimatum: Vlad had to remember his place because he was not unnoticed.

_Oh, but the Grand High Vampire had no idea who he is dealing with._

Vlad's reply was carefully controlled and devoid of significant emotion. "I understand, your Grandness."

A satisfied nod. "Good. You are free to go, child. Your family should be in the East Wing now. Perhaps we shall speak again soon."

Bats, Vlad certainly hoped not. He bowed in respect and left as quickly as his legs could take him. Out of the study and back to his family – Ingrid and Boris included. Vlad just wanted to be  _gone_  from here.

~0~

"You mean you don't remember anything?" Darius was a little disappointed. He had been looking forward to hearing about the final test. "Nothing at all?"

Will only shook his head, giving the rest of their family an apologetic look. "The last thing I remember is one of the servants telling us the event would be beginning soon. I've tried remembering but it's just…cloudy. I just remember running. And…" He grinned. "Ingrid Dracula hates it when I call her by her first name."

~0~

Vlad made it to his family's rooms in record time, ignoring all the servants along the way offering their assistance.

The Count greeted him at once. "Vladdy! Where have you been? We couldn't find you anywhere!"

"Library," he mumbled in reply. They probably wouldn't question him. It was a realistic enough response.

"Boris and Ingrid just returned from their last two events not too long ago," Olga informed him. She was watching Boris warily and Vlad very nearly flinched when he saw that this was indeed the same Boris that Vlad had seen during the third test. He was quiet now and he wasn't shouting parricide. But there was no mistaking the murderous look in his eyes and the way several objects in the room were levitating of their own volition. The Count and Uncle Ivan were completely unphased though, and Vlad's uncle seemed particularly pleased by the change. Uncle Ivan was holding his son's shoulder in fond pride.

"Oh?" Vlad feigned. He looked at his sister and then at his cousin, his breath in his throat. It all came down to this…

"You're so predicable," Ingrid rolled her eyes. But there was a smug smile on her lips. "Boris and I finished in the top five.  _I_ finished first."

"What happened?"

At that, Ingrid's smile flickered. "We…don't really remember. The Council must have chosen to wipe our memories. It is a private test after all."

"Very odd," the Count cheerfully supplied. "It has never been done before, but the rules are always changing. Too bad, the third test usually supplies such good stories."

"Right," Vlad agreed, barely suppressing the smile that was threatening to break across his face. "Too bad."

~0~

When they returned home, the first thing the Draculas did was usher Boris to the family Blood Mirror. It was hidden in a secret passageway within the underground beneath the Stokely castle. How Count Dracula had somehow commissioned an entire underground labyrinth and chamber was beyond the young vampire. But it was indeed there, and Boris was overdue for his full transformation. He had turned sixteen while in his mortal body during the last test, and it explained why he had gone completely berserk. Now he could fully be Turned – fangs and all.

Vlad waited uneasily, all of them still dressed in formal attire straight from the Debut. He didn't want to be here. This would be the first time he had seen anybody undergo their Turning and while he had technically seen some of it during the third event, he did not want to see it completed. To see his cousin so altered was disheartening. Just thinking about Boris still hurt. Vlad wasn't sorry that he had beaten his cousin to save his sister. But at the same time, he mourned the loss of the bespectacled teen who had once searched for normalcy. It seemed that the entire world was trying to show Vlad that there was no way to escape his fate and he was scared at the thought. If Boris – weedy, sickly, clumsy Boris – was transformed into a creature hungry for blood at the flip of a switch, what was stopping the same thing from happening to Vlad?

It was said that the stronger the vampire, the longer they spent facing the Blood Mirror. So Vlad wasn't particularly surprised when Boris took a grand total of ten minutes. The Count had reputably taken well over two hours and Uncle Ivan had taken two hours exactly. Ingrid made sure to voice this the moment Boris stepped back outside.

He had only changed slightly in physical appearance. His eyes were no longer shaded brown, but practically black, and his skin was almost translucent it was so pale. There was an ethereal nature to Boris now, the sort of grace and lethality that accompanied any fully fledged vampire. But Vlad could not look for very long to notice much else because he felt a stab of intense sorrow upon seeing his cousin.

He made sure to avoid eye contact with Boris for the rest of the evening. His father and Uncle Ivan threw his cousin a briefly crafted celebration for his Turning and almost everybody was in a good mood – Ingrid included since she had no recollection that Boris had very nearly choked her to death. But Vlad found it very hard to participate in the festivities when he just felt a bone-deep exhaustion. It was like he had been jumping through one hoop after another lately and all he wanted was for time to just stop and allow him some peace. Nox noticed his master's mood throughout the evening and remained comfortingly within reach whenever Vlad needed it.

When dawn finally neared, everybody moved to return to their respective room for some much needed sleep. Vlad wished to curl into bed as soon as possible, but he had one last task to complete before he hid under his covers from the world.

"Can I talk to you?" Vlad asked Boris as the older boy was making his way down to the dungeons where his own newly made coffin would be.

Boris had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the night. He had been that way since the third event, only angrily saying that he didn't remember anything like everybody else who had been at the event. Ingrid and Olga took it as a sign that while his transformation had indeed influenced him for the better, it hadn't done much for his normally quiet nature.

But Vlad knew better. And he had to play his cards right if he wanted this to turn out the way he needed it to.

The moment they were alone, in one of the many empty hallways guarded only by armor and ancient trinkets, Vlad snapped his fingers to cast an imperturbable charm around them. Boris actually reacted at the snap, taking a step back even though all Vlad had done was prevent the rest of the inhabitants from hearing them. He looked confused as he did so, as if he wasn't sure why his body was retreating.

Good, Vlad thought viciously, summoning all of the cold anger he had felt when he had seen Boris strangling his sister. He couldn't afford to be soft with this Boris. This was no longer the same cousin. This was somebody entirely different, who wouldn't hesitate to murder his family if it meant gaining power. Because at his core, Boris was afraid and he had found power was the only way to stop feeling that way. And that was very dangerous.

Vlad couldn't expel Boris from the family, but he could make sure to scare his cousin enough to prevent any possible future attacks.

"Vlad, what are you doing?"

He didn't allow himself to think, only moved. Boris was a vampire now, complete with vampire speed and powers even if he was still inexperienced. " _Arresto Momentum. Langlock. Flipendo. Petrificus Totalus."_

A vampire at full speed would have beheaded Vlad already. But Boris had been struck by Vlad's first slowing spell and that had prevented any possible retaliation. Boris was thrown back, cracking his head against the stone wall as Vlad pressed a transfigured knife against his cousin's throat. They were barely inches from each other, so close that they could see the individual lashes upon each other's eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," Vlad hissed, allowing himself no weakness. "You're thinking that you're finally powerful, aren't you? That with your transformation you don't have to fear anything anymore. But maybe…you could have more power just in case. Maybe if you're stronger than anybody else, you could be  _invincible._ " Boris's eyes were wide, but he could not speak with his tongue literally tied. Vlad smirked. "It's so obvious. Did you think you could hide it? Did you think you were being sneaky?"

Vlad stabbed his knife into Boris's shoulder and watched his cousin silently scream. He hadn't transfigured just any knife; this was pure silver. "Let me make one thing clear." Vlad's voice was almost a whisper. "You  _should_  still be afraid. Because you are weak and you are  _beneath me_ and if you think you can set your eyes on the Dracula throne, then maybe I should just pluck your eyes out right now." He jerked the knife out of Boris's shoulder and kissed the tip of the blade to his cousin's eye.

"You think you will  _ever_  be strong enough to take me?' And then he laughed because it really was just that funny. " _Please._  I'm not even Turned yet and you're practically wetting yourself."

There was something sickeningly satisfying to see Boris almost quailing. Something deep and animal within him wriggled in black joy because this was what should happen to anybody who dared touch Vlad's family. He was enjoying this – bats, he  _was_  – but something within him was absolutely repulsed by how right this felt and he snapped his fingers to undo the knot on Boris's tongue so he could speak.

"You're crazy," Boris said, his eyes never wavering from the knife's point. "I'm not afraid –"

Vlad's arm moved before he could stop it. All he felt was a flash of white, hot fury ( _what impudence, how dare he talk back when he was just lucky to still be alive)_ and then Boris really did scream, nothing silent about it this time. A large gash sliced across the cheekbone, from the bridge of Boris's nose to the edge of his ear and black blood covered the entire right side of the face almost instantaneously. Something told Vlad that this would scar.

_You should do it again._

No, no. This was starting to go too far. He was only supposed to scare his cousin.

_Boris has to learn his lesson._

And he had. There were actual tears in Boris's eyes now and Vlad knew this was enough of an impression. Just in case though, he transfigured the knife back into a spoon he had taken from the dinner table.

"Take one step out of line, make any move towards gaining more power, and I will make sure not to miss next time."

Vlad left Boris alone in the hall after that. The message had been delivered and when the Dracula family met for breakfast again at dusk, Boris arrived with a new scar that he blamed on a knife trick he had been learning.

He sat as far away from Vlad as possible.

* * *

**This is the last we will see of the vampire world for now. Vlad still has the rest of his summer and all of Third Year before he dives back in.**

**Please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. I did check briefly for any obvious mistakes, but I do usually have a few here and there.**

**Till next time!**


	39. The Staff of Carpathia

I do not own Young Dracula, Harry Potter, or anything that could get me sued.

Thank you always for your reviews! I love reading them and hearing from you all.

I also wanted to remind that my updating schedule can be erratic because of life in general. But I'm always thinking of my stories and do intend to finish this. Thank you for your patience!

* * *

**Chapter 39: The Staff of Carpathia**

"Do you want to know what I've got planned for this weekend?"

Jonno really, honestly did not want to know. It was too early in the morning to be humoring his dad. But he relented and sighed in exasperation. "Let me guess: we're going to stake out some part of the town as usual, look for vampires as usual, find nothing as usual, and then go home and watch some random movies  _as usual._ "

Eric Van Helsing grinned, undeterred by his son's lack of enthusiasm. "Well that's where you're wrong."

Jonno blinked and gaped in surprise. "Really?"

"We're not watching movies afterwards. The television is broken," the man shrugged.

The disappointment was immediate but not unexpected. Jonno was used to this by now but he couldn't help feeling tired of his dad's constant obsession. "Dad, I don't want to think about vampires this weekend! I just want to do what all other kids do. Like fishing with their dad or hanging out with friends."

"You like fishing then?"

"I wouldn't know," Jonno snapped. "Nobody has ever taken me."

A flicker of pain slipped into his father's face and left Jonno regretting his words. He knew his dad tried in the ways that he could. Even if Eric Van Helsing was delusional, he did love his son and Jonno knew that.

"How about this," Jonno's dad said, his voice a little quieter as he pulled the car into his teacher's parking spot. "You can pick whatever you want to do this weekend after summer classes."

Jonno couldn't believe his luck. "Really?"

"Really. As long as you practice double time with the stakes next weekend."

There was the caveat, but Jonno wasn't too devastated. He was smiling when he left the car for the first day of summer school and truly meant it when he replied, "Thanks, Dad. It means a lot."

~0~

It was with great relief that Vlad learned summer classes at Stokely Grammar School would begin soon. He needed time away from his family, needed time amongst more normal people to remind him that not every day was filled with schemes and life-threatening situations. As it was, he could only really talk to Nox and Zoltan, and he needed somebody else who wasn't thirsty for blood. He could feel himself fraying at the edges and it didn't help that Uncle Ivan had chosen to stay for a few more weeks to allow Boris time to become used to his new powers. Boris and Vlad had ceased to speak with each other entirely since the Debut and it hurt Vlad to see his cousin so different.

The Count was reluctant to allow his son back to Breather school when Vlad brought it up. But he was in an indulgent mood when Vlad had asked, allowing his son's whim so long as he did not fall behind on his magical assignments. The young vampire made sure to remain on his best behavior for the days following; he practiced magic where the Count would be able to see, listened when his father wished to vent poetic prose about vampire traditions, and even slept at the family's preferred bedtime at dawn.

Finally, the day came for Vlad to go to summer classes and he wasted no time in pulling on his uniform – adjusted to fit after his year's growth – and heading out. Everybody was asleep when he exited the enormous double doors of the castle (Ingrid wasn't attending summer school by virtue of being present during the year already), but Vlad preferred it that way so he could take some time to himself.

Walking into Stokely was like fresh air the young vampire hadn't had in months. People were just beginning their day like any other and there was a slow rhythm to which everybody moved. Nothing had changed since Vlad had been here last and it comforted him to know this was still the same small town. The only excitement Stokely probably ever entertained was local gossip and the occasional holiday celebration. It was the sort of place where the people knew each other, smiled and waved in greeting, and took their time to enjoy life. There was no need to add excitement to so peaceful and content a place for the people already knew that life in and of itself was enough.

It was everything Vlad wanted and he couldn't help but wistfully watch every normal family he passed.

Stokely Grammar School was a large two story building made of brown brick and a plethora of windows to allow the sunlight in. There was nothing particularly inspiring about it with the exception of a sky-blue sign presenting the school name. But seeing it again was one of the best sights Vlad had come upon lately. He was relieved at the total lack of grandeur and for once felt like any other person walking on to campus.

The first of the students attending summer classes were trickling in and the young vampire followed suit, passing through the school gates. Vlad headed straight for the main office to pick up his schedule, but somebody caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks.

"Vlad!"

"Robin?"

His friend had grown in the months Vlad had been gone. His black hair was the same, tousled look that screamed "broody" and his grin was as mischievous as ever. But he was taller than he had been before, taller than Vlad and slightly lankier too.

"I can't believe it!" Robin exclaimed, running over in his glee. "You're back!"

"I told you I would be back in my last letter," Vlad laughed. He had made sure to keep in touch even as the entire Chamber of Secrets debacle had gone on. It was fun to write to Robin about things like classes and it served as reminder to the young vampire that he was friends with at least one relatively normal human in his life.

"That was almost two weeks ago. I'd practically given up hope," Robin bemoaned. "You wouldn't believe how boring it has been without you. Not all of us are lucky enough to go to a supernatural school."

Vlad shrugged. "Boring sounds good to me. I'm picking up my schedule, by the way. Do you want to come?"

They made their way slowly to the main office, chatting aimlessly about Vlad's return and their excitement about how they were to be able to hang out once again. Something in the young vampire's chest warmed when Robin proceeded to list the sorts of things they could do together over the summer and he relaxed in a way he hadn't been able to in months.

 _This_  was normal.

Vlad had just managed to obtain his schedule when Robin explained, "I'm not so sure you can drop by my place later on. My family has recently gotten a cockroach infestation. I don't particularly mind it, but my mum hates it. We're having the house cleaned and we're still figuring out where to stay in the meantime. If only I had a friend who lived in a castle…"

The young vampire frowned. "Robin, you know my place is not good."

"Then what about my place?"

Both boys turned around to see Jonno Van Helsing grinning behind them, his own schedule in hand. Vlad hadn't even noticed the other boy was so close.

"Your place?" Vlad asked in confusion. Jonno didn't remember Vlad's family consisted of vampires, but since when was he so friendly?

"Yeah," Jonno nodded. "Robin comes by all the time. By the way, welcome back Vlad."

The young vampire barely heard the welcome. "Robin visits you all the time?" He stared at his friend, suddenly feeling his stomach drop.

Robin was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, yeah."

"What –"

"You're welcome to come by too, Vlad," Jonno invited, stuffing his paper schedule into his backpack. "My dad is letting me have the weekend so I was thinking maybe we could all do something? My dad's trailer isn't too big, but your family can definitely stay until your house cleaning is done, Robin."

Vlad was still gaping as Robin responded, "That'd be great, thanks. I'll let my mum know. Are you sure your dad will be okay with it?"

"He'll be fine," Jonno grinned and then, to Vlad's complete horror, playfully punched Robin's shoulder. "You're one of his best students; he always tells me. He'd love to have you over." Just as the young vampire felt like his mind was going to implode from what he was seeing, the school bell rang shrilly announcing the start of the day. "Oh, I've got to go. I've got history first but I'll see you in carpentry, Robin! And hopefully we'll have some classes together, Vlad."

Then, like a whirlwind, the Van Helsing boy was gone, unknowingly leaving behind a minefield of information Vlad wasn't quite sure he had been ready to absorb.

"Look," Robin muttered as soon as Jonno was out of earshot. "I can explain."

"Since when were you best friends with Jonno Van Helsing?" Vlad couldn't help the anger and slight betrayal he was feeling. He knew, conceptually, that Robin wouldn't have stayed alone the entire year without any other friends. And the young vampire had no say in who Robin could go about talking to either. But Robin's father had very nearly  _stabbed_  last summer because of the Van Helsings and Vlad couldn't comprehend why Robin had decided to make good with a possible murderer.

"I didn't plan for it to happen, okay? It just…did."

Vlad only raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come on, man. It isn't like that. I just didn't want to tell you because I know how much you wouldn't like it –"

"Really," the young vampire drawled. "You don't say."

"I didn't make the first move. Jonno did. He saw how some people were going on about my cape and stood up for me. If it makes you feel any better, I'm not so sure he planned on becoming friends. Everybody just figured since Jonno stood up for the weird goth kid, then we must be buddies. And things just worked out from there."

"Have you forgotten that his father is a  _vampire slayer_?"

"I know, I know." Robin was tugging at his backpack strap uncomfortably. "I really didn't mean for it to work out this way, Vlad. I avoided him a lot at first. But Jonno isn't a bad guy and, well, you were so far away studying vampire stuff and I was just here doing boring stuff and Jonno sort of understands what it's like to be the odd one out. And I even did what you kept telling me to do and kept away from your sister – which wasn't easy let me tell you –"

Vlad could suddenly understand why his friend had decided Jonno wasn't bad company. Robin craved everything supernatural and invigorating. Finding out that vampires existed had probably been everything he had dreamed and when Vlad had disappeared for months, it had probably been hard to go back to normal even if they had exchanged letters often. Jonno was another link to the world beyond Robin's and it didn't hurt that they were both often alone at school in the first place.

Guilt tugged at Vlad's chest and he sighed. "It's fine, Robin. I get it. It's just…I can't be near his dad. You know I can't."

"Yeah, vampires and vampire slayers don't exactly mix. But you hypnotized them, right? Neither of them remember anything."

"I can't guarantee that it will hold. They both probably have strong emotions tied to me and if I trigger even the slightest thing their memories might come back."

"Maybe if we just tried? I think you would like it."

Vlad was opening his mouth to respond absolutely not when one of the teachers spotted them still in the hallway not yet in class, and then they had no choice but to leave the conversation for later. The young vampire could only hope, as they trudged through the day, that Robin would come to his senses and realize this was madness.

~0~

Vlad's first day back at Stokely Grammar School somehow ended with a promise that he would consider hanging out with a Slayer's son. Both of them insisted, saying it would be great fun for the three of them to do something over the weekend. They were so vehement in their invitations that Vlad could only relent slightly in defeat.

He would have been lying to himself, if he said he wasn't a little annoyed with how well Robin and Jonno got along. It was clear that they were decently close now and it struck Vlad that although he had spent all of last summer with Robin, that was not as much as an entire school year his friend must have spent with Jonno. Robin was trying his best, clearly happy to have Vlad back and trying to merge his two worlds. But the young vampire wasn't quite sure his friend understood quite how badly this could turn out.

There was a lot on the Dracula heir's mind when he returned home after lunch, only attending half-day as he had last summer. He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost tripped over Nox, who was waiting for him by the door.

"Whoa!" Vlad barely caught himself in time and stumbled a few steps on the stone floor. "Nox, I almost got you there!" He laughed and affectionately picked up his companion, scratching under the feline's chin. There were a lot of things in Vlad's life that he was struggling with, but Nox somehow always found a way to distract him even for a little bit.

Vlad made his way past the main foyer into the throne room where his family so often ate together. The sun was still bright out, so he figured none of the vampires in the castle would be out and about quite yet. But sitting on one of the chairs was Olga, picking at what seemed to be Renfield's latest concoction.

Vlad's cousin barely glanced up in greeting before saying, "You really  _do_  go to Breather school."

"I do," Vlad confirmed, and left it at that. He was accustomed to his family believing him mad for even wanting to go and there were just more important things to worry about than approval over his actions.

"You're the weirdest person I've ever met." Olga scooped up some of the sludge in her bowl and gave it a look that would have withered a plant. "You go to Breather school, try your hardest to avoid anything vampiric, and yet somehow you scare my brother more than my own father." She lifted her eyes and met his squarely. "Not that I'm complaining. Boris is a right pain nowadays even if he isn't a total embarrassment anymore."

Vlad wasn't sure what was happening, if this was meant to be some form of interrogation or if Olga was just voicing her thoughts aloud. The rest of the family had inevitably noticed his fallout with Boris. But neither boy had ever offered any sort of explanation and since vampires never particularly cared about healthy family dynamics, things had been left unquestioned. Until now. Vlad, not quite in the mood to be divulging, said nothing and maintained his gaze unflinchingly.

A heartbeat passed, then Olga turned back to her lunch like nothing had happened. She was probably still curious, but smart enough to know that if Vlad didn't want to tell, then she wasn't going to hear it. It was a topic to be approached much later – if ever.

Vlad then hastily ran to his room at the top of one of the towers afterwards, closing the door behind him before allowing Nox out of his arms and greeting Zoltan who was there as usual. His room was a little messy with his many books strewn about, his pajamas hastily thrown on to the bed from the morning and his bed rumpled from lack of folding. But Vlad had never been one for keeping things tidy while he studied and more often than not, he fell asleep while working on an assignment or reading a passage. The night before had been no exception and he ignored it despite Zoltan's pestering. It was homey for Vlad to come back to the room, where he could be himself – messy and all – in peace and talk freely with his furry companions.

"How was your day, Master Vlad?" Zoltan asked curiously. "Was school absolutely detestable?"

"It was actually likeable, Zoltan," Vlad smiled.

"Pity. Schools are no good unless they're despicable."

The young vampire allowed his hellhound to ramble on as he extended a hand to the walls. He closed his eyes and began his daily test of the wards he had set around his room, something he had learned to create from  _Strigoi_. The book Dobby had given him might not have provided much in terms of actual vampire knowledge and advice on how to escape his future as a vampire. But Vlad had come across a great many spells on how to prevent vampire attacks and he supposed it made sense that a wizard book on vampires would focus on such an aspect. He had been nervous to read them at first, feeling like he somehow shouldn't be learning how to cast enchantments on vampires like his own family. But ever since he had threatened Boris, Vlad had decided it was probably best to have a few under his belt. A lot of the spells were too difficult or unwieldy. But a few gems like how to set up a ward to keep out vampires was exactly what Vlad needed to make sure his cousin wouldn't go snooping about. The young vampire was very aware that the Philosopher's Stone and invisibility cloak were still hidden and he could not risk anybody combing through his belongings. Vlad suspected his spells still wouldn't be enough to keep out his father and uncle if they truly wished to enter. But they would probably keep out a newly Turned Boris and a few other regular locking spells would keep out Ingrid and Olga.

"Are you listening to me, Master Vlad?"

"I am, Zoltan," Vlad replied as he opened his eyes when his check revealed everything to be okay. "You were saying how much better it would be if I would just stop going to Breather school where all they do is turn me into a mindless sheep."

The hellhound huffed in irritation despite his master's correct answer. "Master Vlad, I don't see why you must check on your barrier. I would let you know if anybody came into your room. Don't you trust me?"

"Only about as far as I can throw you," the young vampire teased. He stuck out a defiant tongue and began changing out of his school uniform. "You have no spine – literally a figuratively – so I think anybody in this castle could convince you to keep quiet."

"You wound me, Master Vlad."

Vlad laughed and ruffled the top of Zoltan's head. "I'm just kidding. You're the best. You and Nox."

Both pets seemed to moan in unison. They got along now, but they still disliked each other enough to hate when Vlad tried to insist that he loved them both equally. He truly did, but convincing them of that was next to impossible.

"By the way, Zoltan, if I just happen to be invited to a Slayer's home do you think I should go?"

"Master Vlad!" The hellhound rolled back and forth on his wheels in distress. "You mustn't make such jokes."

"Hypothetically, Zoltan. Say they don't know I'm a vampire but they invited me as a friend."

"I think you know the obvious answer, Master Vlad. But if you truly wanted to go then all it would require is discretion, no? And perhaps it would be a good opportunity to get rid of the Slayer before they realize the truth about you."

"Hm." Vlad absently tugged at his hair in thought. "You don't think it's too dangerous?"

"Since when have you been the type to avoid danger?" the hellhound asked. "The easiest thing would be not going at all, Master Vlad. But if you were one for easy paths, then you would have accepted your vampire heritage a long time ago."

Zoltan was right about that. Vlad could have avoided a lot of trouble both at home and at Hogwarts if he could have just keep to himself. He was tired, more than a little stressed, and desperate for some peace. But Vlad couldn't stop himself from getting involved and that was the unfortunate truth. The young vampire glanced at the walls of his room, lined with spells against his own blood relatives and sighed deeply. If he chose to stay at home rather than spend the weekend with Robin and Jonno, then he would be here where he had to constantly be on his guard. Until his cousins were gone, Vlad would not feel comfortable and the thought of an entire weekend blocked in with them made his skin crawl. Boris's scar was physical, tangible, and created by Vlad's own hand. Vlad's stomach always twisted uncomfortably at the sight and made him feel so far from the normal boy he wanted to be.

So those were his two choices for the weekend: spend time with the son of a Slayer trained to murder vampires on sight or spend time surrounded by reminders of his increasingly out-of-control life.

When put like that, the decision was easy.

~0~

Vlad's first impression of the Van Helsing trailer was that of underwhelmed surprise. He had thought Slayers needed a solid place to live so they could store their weaponry. But perhaps a moveable trailer made sense so that they could follow their vampire targets without having to pack their equipment each time. Morbid thoughts aside, Vlad had to wonder how both the Branaughs and the Van Helsings were all fitting into such a limited space without driving each other mad. The young vampire could barely stay sane with six people in an entire castle; how were eight people functioning in a space smaller than Vlad's foyer?

Still, it seemed things were working out since the Branaughs had been staying over for the last three days already – something Jonno was positively ecstatic about. Ever since the young vampire had conceded to spending time with both boys over the weekend, the Slayer's son had wasted no time in joining Robin and Vlad at lunch and breaks. During that time, Vlad had learned an uncomfortable amount of information regarding the Van Helsings. Jonno was an only child of divorced parents who had not lived in one place for longer than a year or two since choosing to live with his father. It was clear that Robin had been right: Jonno was not a bad person to hang out with at all. He was genuine and eager to make friends and an overall completely normal boy. There was a lot they had in common especially when it came to embarrassing fathers and by the end of their first week at summer school, Vlad had to reluctantly admit that he didn't entirely dislike Jonno's company.

It was both a great and terrible realization to come to. In Vlad's entire life, the most normal person he had ever met was the son of a Slayer whom the young vampire had already hypnotized once already. Simply talking to Jonno often felt like constant lying because beneath their easy conversation was the truth that their ancestry alone made them enemies. There was no way this could end well, but Vlad found himself talking to Robin and Jonno on a daily basis despite the growing pit of disaster.

So that was how Vlad found himself knocking on the Van Helsing's door as if he hadn't stopped them from murder the summer before. Life was a constant set of pitfalls lately. What was one more to add to the list?

Mrs. Branaugh was the one to answer, opening the door with a smile that probably would have put the sun to shame. "Oh! You must be Vlad! It is very nice to meet you."

Her hug was warm, unexpected, and foreign. But Vlad returned it and wistfully wondered if he might ever receive one like this from his own family. "It is nice to meet you too, Mrs. Branaugh. Are Robin and Jonno here?"

"Right here!" Robin excitedly answered, peeping up from behind his mother. He was wearing a black leather jacket despite the sunny weather and a t-shirt speckled with bats. It was a miracle Mr. Van Helsing hadn't condemned Robin a vampire again by looks alone.

Jonno was close behind, jumping out of the trailer after Robin in plain cargo pants and a green t-shirt. "Good to see you, Vlad!"

"So this is Vlad!" Mr. Branaugh had come to see the commotion. "Nice to meet you, young man."

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Branaugh," the young vampire repeated. "I'm sorry to hear about the infestation."

"No worries, dear," Mrs. Branaugh smiled. "It should be done by tomorrow. But that's not something you should worry about. You boys go and have some fun at the museum!"

Vlad raised his eyebrows. He hadn't known they were going to the museum and glanced over at Robin for an explanation. The other boy simply shook his head to indicate he would explain later.

"My dad is driving us," Jonno grinned. "He wants to tag along. He should be with the truck." The boy turned to the car parked just in front of the trailer and yelled, "Dad! Vlad's here!"

Having the Van Helsing Slayer come with them for their weekend meet-up had not been part of the plan. Vlad felt his heart speed up a bit in apprehension and it took a good amount of effort to appear relaxed. He shot Robin an angry glare and the other boy only winced apologetically in reply.

At Jonno's call, a clean-shaven head peeked over the other side of the car where Vlad had failed to spot him before. Eric Van Helsing was a tall and large man of formidable stature. Dressed in Slayer leathers he would have been a frightening sight. But for now, he was wearing a simple jumper and his glasses leant a more academic nature to him.

"Alright then boys! Get on in. I just finished checking up on the car."

Vlad spent the entire drive with his hands clenched in his lap and his eyes constantly searching his surroundings. The ride was oddly uneventful once Jonno hastily moved aside two stakes lying on the seats. The boy had apologized, explaining to his great embarrassment that his dad was just testing out some new equipment for his "hobby." But seeing them did nothing to ease Vlad's nerves. For all he knew, the Van Helsings were setting a trap and he might have walked right into it. They could drive anywhere right now to do with Vlad as they wished and the young vampire had literally walked into their laps for that to happen.

But nothing occurred. In fact, Eric Van Helsing spoke sparingly and only briefly mentioned that he was coming with them to see a few exhibits on his own. Jonno explained that his father would let them do their own thing and that they wouldn't even know Mr. Van Helsing was there. Vlad wasn't so sure about that, but he had no choice in the matter now. Leaving would look strange and Vlad wanted to appear as normal as possible.

The young vampire heaved a great sigh of relief when they were finally at the museum and away from the Slayer's vicinity. Jonno's father had decided to drop them off at the entrance before driving off to park the truck. Vlad wasn't so sure what he had been expecting, but given his luck lately he had been bracing for the worst. Perhaps today would just be a normal day after all as long as they steered clear of Eric Van Helsing.

"So what are we here for?" Vlad asked as they entered the large, stately white building.

"Robin read about the temporary horror exhibit here for the weekend," Jonno answered with a shrug. "It seemed interesting and I haven't been to the museum yet."

Robin rolled his eyes. "There isn't much really besides the exhibit. Just normal old collector's items. But there is one  _super_  special part of the exhibit we should see!" He abruptly picked up pace, quickly moving over to one of the advertising posters on the entrance wall and proudly pointing to it. "The Staff of Carpathia! Legend has it that one blow from the staff will cure the curse of vampirism."

Vlad could hardly believe his ears. Could this be true? "Robin, this is brilliant!"

"I know," Robin replied smugly. "I told you it would be a good idea to come this weekend."

Jonno groaned. "Vampire stuff? My dad is definitely here for this."

That would be a problem. It was clear that Robin had planned the trip here for his sake, since he knew Vlad wanted to be permanently human. A part of the young vampire was touched because despite being friends with Jonno now, Robin had still kept an eye out for Vlad. But getting their hands on the staff would be harder now that the Slayer was also here for it.

Robin was already looking at the museum map. "The Staff of Carpathia is on the second floor on the other side of the museum," he said, pointing towards the left set of staircases. "Why don't we visit that first?"

Jonno seemed reluctant, but relented when Vlad vehemently supported Robin's suggestion. They got lost a couple times on their way there when Robin's attention drifted to other horror displays and Jonno paused at some others. But they otherwise eventually made it to the large hall where the artifact was kept. In the room, there were other objects on show with golden vases glittering on white pedestals and old architectural findings placed in glass containers. There was even an ancient gong standing at the opposite end of the entranceway with several people slowly observing each. But Vlad could have cared less for all the finery; he immediately focused upon the artifact at the very center of the hall where his hopes of mortality lay.

The Staff of Carpathia was not an outstanding piece of work. On the contrary, it was gnarled and twisted not unlike the Whomping Willow's branches back at Hogwarts. Its dark brown wood was worn yet smooth underneath the display lights and Vlad might have believed it to be just another uniquely shaped trinket had it not been in the museum.

The young vampire's attention was pulled away from the staff when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Vlad turned to look at Robin and frowned at the look of shock on his friend's face. "What is it, Robin?"

"Isn't that…your dad?"

At first, the young vampire thought his friend was going mental. But then he saw his father in the flesh sitting just in front of the staff on one of the observation seats, covered from head to toe in black clothing to protect from the sun.

"Dad?" Vlad ran over in confusion and immediately felt a flash of worry when his father did not reply. "Dad!"

"Is he okay?" Jonno asked in concern, noting how the vampire was sitting unblinkingly and unresponsively.

"Sorry, Vlad. I think your dad is dead," Robin supplied unhelpfully.

"Well of course he…!" The young vampire stopped himself just in time. "Of course he isn't!"

"He needs help," Jonno said, and pulled out his cellphone. "I'm going to go find my dad so he can come."

Vlad was about to exclaim how that would be the complete opposite of helping. But then Robin interjected, "That's great! Why don't you go? We'll stay here and keep watch."

Jonno nodded in determination and left as fast as he could, filled with the intent to help a friend.

"Are you crazy?" Vlad hissed at Robin once Jonno was out of sight. "He's bringing his  _Slayer_  dad to my  _vampire_  father! Doesn't that seem a little counterproductive?"

"It'll be easier for us to figure this out with Jonno gone for now," Robin replied. "We can talk without stopping for him. Do you know what could be wrong with your dad? Are you sure he isn't…?"

Vlad sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Robin, he's been dead for more than six hundred years. That's not what I'm worried about." He took a closer look at his father's face, racking his brain for how this was happening. Then, he stood up straight and remembered, "This is an old vampire trick. Their life forces can leave their bodies."

"So he could be anywhere?" Robin's eyes were wide with a combination of shock and excitement. "Wicked."

"Well, he would never go far unless he was in trouble." Vlad glanced around anxiously, aware that Jonno would soon arrive with Mr. Van Helsing. "I need to go find my dad, but I have to hide his body first so he won't be staked. You stay here, Robin, and tell Jonno when he comes back that I decided to take my dad away before things got worse."

"How am I supposed to explain that you carried your dad on your own? He's at least twice your size!"

"Tell him I got help or something. You'll figure it out."

Robin spluttered in indignation, but quickly stopped when Vlad snapped his fingers and whispered the feather-light charm. The human boy watched his vampire friend pick up the Count's body as if it weighed nothing in gaping fascination. "That's actually the coolest thing I've ever seen."

"Don't count on it happening too much," Vlad groaned. "You know what to do?"

"Yeah, yeah. Keep Jonno and his dad occupied."

The young vampire nodded in confirmation and then he was running out of the hall to find a safe place for his father's body, trying to ignore the slightly incredulous glances the other visitors sent him.

~0~

Count Dracula was proud of many things. He was proud of his power, proud of being a vampire, proud of his lineage, proud of his many conquests throughout the centuries, proud to be the envy of everybody he met. He was the Prince of Darkness and there was very little he didn't have to be pleased about. But the thing he was proudest of was undoubtedly his son, Vladimir Dracula.

The Count had always known his son was meant for big things. At Vladimir's birth, he had felt something like he had never felt before and knew immediately that the Dracula throne had an heir worthy of its title. Vladimir was strong from the beginning, breaking several of his sister's fingers on more than one occasion when she tried to keep a toy from him and terrifying Renfield whenever he had babysitting duties. That strength bled outside of physical ability and the Count watched with pride as it shone in everything his son did. Vladimir was strong in body, mind, and spirit. And it unfortunately showed when he decided to latch on to the ridiculous notion that he did not want to be a vampire.

The Count had not seen it coming. For a good portion of his son's infancy, Vladimir had not displayed any adverse reactions to his heritage. But one day, he walked up to his father with tears in his eyes and begged for a way to become a normal Breather forever.

The Dracula patriarch had refused, of course. Scolding his son for even suggesting such a thing and doubling his tutoring to emphasize the importance of vampire history and knowledge. Yet no matter how much the Count tried to reach out to his son, to offer biting lessons or family techniques in hunting like he himself had once loved, Vladimir grew more and more resistant until there was a gap between them the Count could no longer breach. He was left at a loss, unable to comprehend why his son did not want to become one of the superior species on the planet.

Then Vladimir's invitation to study with the wizards had come and, for a little bit, things began to look up.

But his son, his strong and stubborn son, still refused to give up his dream of becoming a normal Breather and the Count was more determined than ever to prevent that from happening. Vladimir was meant for great things and the Count would rather burn under the sun than see his son's potential go to waste.

So when he caught wind of the Staff of Carpathia's presence in Stokely, the head of the Dracula clan wasted no time in going to destroy it despite the daytime hour. He ordered Renfield to drive him immediately to the town museum and took care to dress in all black protective clothing. His objective was clear, and it was simple enough to locate the staff. But just as the artifact was in sight, he smelled a scent he hadn't detected in over fifteen years.

Slayer. It was Van Helsing.

The Count immediately left his body sitting on a bench beside the staff, sending his projected form in search. To his horror, he found the Slayer and its offspring surrounding his Vladimir. They had found his son and captured him, surely, and were dragging Vladimir to the staff. The Count could not let that happen and fury like he hadn't felt in years drove him to possess the elder Van Helsing's body.

He entered the body just as the Breather was walking into the museum. To anybody watching, they saw the local carpentry teacher stop in his tracks before shuddering violently in a painful fit. But it was only a second before the man was composed again with nothing seemingly amiss.

"You," the Count snarled in the Slayer's mind, sending his voice trembling down to the Breather's toes. "You  _dare."_

The Slayer caught on faster than the Dracula had anticipated he would. "Vampire!" the Slayer yelled angrily, heedless of the people who heard him in the open museum. "How are you – where are you?!"

"I am in your filthy body, you disgusting worm. You dare to think you can take  _my child_  and sentence him to a life of a Breather –"

"Get out!" the Slayer yelled, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a stake. "Get out or I'll –"

"Put that thing away," the Count sneered, forcing the Slayer's hand to toss the wood across the room. "I don't think your puny intellect can catch up, but  _I am in your body_. You are no longer in control."

There was a panicked breath to the Slayer now that the Count reveled in. Yes, the Slayer  _should_  be afraid because this was only a scratch on the surface of what he would do to the Breather for daring to set eyes on Vladimir. How wonderful would it be to make the Slayer torture himself and be unable to do anything to stop it…

But the Slayer was strong, probably that Van Helsing blood in him. The Breather resisted, pushing and squeezing at the Count's consciousness. It was unrelenting and far fiercer than any the Count had encountered. But it would not be enough to force a vampire of this level of power out. They were in an internal struggle, a fight for dominance when a voice stopped Van Helsing's efforts in their tracks.

"Dad? There you are! Why didn't you answer your phone?"

The Slayer's offspring was useful after all. At the child's voice, Van Helsing had been shocked enough for the Count to push the Slayer back and take full control.

"Dad? Are you listening to me?"

"Ah," the Count purred, turning eyes to look at the small Slayer spawn in front of him. "Yes. What were you saying, boy?"

The child looked at him oddly, but replied, "We need your help. I think we found Vlad's dad near the Staff of Carpathia exhibit and he wasn't responding to us."

The Count frowned. Vladimir was still in danger, still so close to the staff. But knowing his son, receiving a blow from the staff would not be entirely unwelcome. Vladimir's magic was strong enough to escape capture by now, especially without the fully grown Slayer present. But his son was being annoyingly stubborn again and making his father's job twice as hard.

"Yes, I will help," the Count said, tapping a finger to his lips. "Lead the way."

The Slayer spawn smiled in relief and they were immediately headed up the staircase and towards the staff. When they were about halfway there, down one of the narrower hallways, the Count moved swiftly and knocked the boy unconscious. With the child out of the way, there would be one less enemy to deal with. The Dracula patriarch forced the Slayer's body to pick up his spawn and deposit him in one of the museum's closets. He had just locked the closet door with the boy inside when suddenly a strong pressure lashed out from the base of the Count's being.

Bats, the Slayer was fighting back again. The Count grunted, feeling the Slayer's body gasp in pain and lean against the wall. Then he was abruptly thrown back into peripheral consciousness as the Slayer heaved himself up and briefly back in control. The Count hissed, immediately battling. The body was more accustomed to the Slayer, though, and intuitively understood that the Count was an intruder. They struggled, constantly switching in and out of bodily possession until they stumbled into one of the nearby bathrooms.

The Count was in control when they entered, turning to a man washing his hands at one of the sinks and commanding, "Out, Breather!"

Then the Slayer came forth, stopping his arm's sweeping motion and pulling back. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean –"

"Out, or I'll drain all your blood!" the Count cackled, baring the Slayer's teeth and leaning in close. The Breather gaped in shock before hastily backing away and out of the room.

The Slayer yelled in frustration, shoving the Count back again and shouting, "Would you stop that!" His body was breathing heavily from exertion and he choked out a cough as the internal battle raged on. Both Slayer and vampire looked up into one of the mirrors over the sinks and Van Helsing gasped when he saw not himself, but the vampire looking back.

"What do you know," the Count purred, admiring himself as he pushed the Slayer out of consciousness. "I haven't seen my reflection in quite some time."

"That's the face of pure, unadulterated evil!"

"Yes, yes obviously," the Count laughed, brushing aside the Breather's mental shout. "Look at that bone structure and those brooding eyes.

"Get out, get out of my body  _now!"_

The head of the Dracula clan scolded, "So rude. You should learn to keep  _quiet."_  At the Count's last word, his eyes flashed red and his power forced the Slayer to the deepest recesses of the body. It might not hold back the Breather forever, but it would be just enough for some fun.

The Count heard the bathroom door slam open just as things were coming back under control and he growled to himself in irritation. What did it take for a vampire to get some privacy to inflict pain on a Slayer through possession? He turned the Slayer's body, fully intent on punishing whoever came through.

"Mr. Van Helsing?"

The Count blinked in surprise. "Vladdy?"

His son looked in confusion, probably wondering why the Slayer had responded in such a way. Then his smart, smart boy realized the truth and muttered, "Oh, this is bad."

"Quite the contrary," the Count cackled, pleased that his son was now far from the staff and the Slayer suitably subdued. "This is perfect."

"Dad, get back in your own body right now," Vladimir said, his lips thin. "I've hidden it in the main horror exhibit. I don't know how this happened or why you're doing this, but this isn't good."

"Oh, but I feel alive, Vlad. I haven't felt blood flow in my veins like this for hundreds of years!"

"Dad, please –"

"I'm glad you got away from the Slayers by the way," the Count mused. "I'll teach them a lesson for kidnapping you."

His son ran a hand through his hair in anxiety. "Dad, I wasn't kidnapped. I was here on a trip for…school."

"And it had nothing to do with the Staff of Carpathia, hm?" The Count did not miss Vladimir's look of guilt. "I thought I told you to give up on becoming a silly Breather."

"And I told you I wouldn't," his son snapped angrily, impudently. "Besides, you came to destroy it, didn't you?"

The Dracula patriarch wouldn't have allowed such insolence from anybody else, but from Vladimir, the vampire just sighed in fond exasperation. "Vladdy, I came to get it because it is mine. The staff is my favorite backscratcher. I lost it about four hundred years back, you see."

The younger vampire shot his father a look of disbelief. "You don't think I'll actually believe that, do you?"

"You could believe me and stop this silliness with the staff, or you can not believe me and watch as I kill this disgusting Slayer."

"You wouldn't." Vladimir's eyes were wide. "We can't attract attention to ourselves right now. You agreed to let me go to school and everything."

"Staying in Stokely is a luxury I indulge in, Vladimir, not a necessity. I let you have your fun with the Breathers for now because sometimes it is exciting to play with your food before eating it. We could just as easily move back to Transylvania. In fact, I rather miss my old throne room."

The Count knew he had his son there. Vladimir loved going to normal Breather school, bats knew why. Now it was time to see if he loved it enough to sacrifice something in exchange. Uncertain mortality or guaranteed time amongst the peasants?

His son's voice was small and a little thick when he replied, "Fine. I'll do it your way, Dad." Then Vladimir's eyes sharpened with that strength the Count was so used to seeing. "But I want something in exchange: go back to your own body."

"But this is a Slayer, Vladdy. A Van Helsing. It would be best to eliminate him now."

"How will I explain a dead body?"

The Count chuckled. "You won't have to. Breathers come up with many fantastic ideas."

"Dad," his son's eyes were now unflinching. "Please."

The head of the Dracula clan looked at his son for a long moment. Then, he let out a frustrated groan. "Oh, Vladdy. We don't say 'please.' How many times do I have to teach you? But very well, my boy. Only because you are my favorite." The elder vampire took one last look in the mirror at his reflection. "I will see you back home soon."

When Eric Van Helsing woke, he found himself facedown on the bathroom floor with a lack of vampires plaguing his thoughts and only a swinging bathroom door to indicate that anything had happened at all.

~0~

"Vlad!" Robin exclaimed when he saw his friend back at the Staff of Carpathia exhibit. "You're back! You won't believe what happened. I was standing here waiting for Jonno to come back, but he never did. And then just a few minutes ago the staff just disappeared! One second it was there, and then the next it was gone!"

Vlad had never quite felt so dejected. His father might or might not have been lying about the staff's identity as a backscratcher. But in the end, he hadn't been able to sentence Jonno's dad – Slayer or not – to death on the possibility that the artifact could prevent his vampiric transformation. At one point, before Vlad had gotten to know Jonno a little better, he might have been able to risk it. He would have said anything for a chance to free himself from his future. Yet something along the line had changed. He was confused and angry at himself for letting this chance pass. But all he could see when his father had given him the choice was facing Jonno in person and having to say that Mr. Van Helsing's death was his fault.

He just couldn't do it. Not to somebody who was so human, who simply wanted a normal dad like he did.

What did this all mean? Was his dream to become normal not strong enough? What was he doing? Vlad had a million questions for himself, the foremost being: what did he really want? Certainly not vampirism, but not normality at any cost like he had initially thought.

"Vlad? Earth to Vlad?"

The young vampire shook his head and cleared his mind. "Sorry, Robin. A lot on my mind. Thanks for keeping watch; I think it was my dad who dropped by to pick up the staff."

"What did I miss?" Robin pouted. "Your dad came back to his body after all?"

"He did, after possessing Mr. Van Helsing."

"After he what?" The look on the human boy's face was almost comical.

Vlad sighed. "It's a long story. Why don't I tell you while we search for Jonno?"

"Jonno? What happened to Jonno?"

"I'm not sure," the young vampire shrugged. He began to walk back out of the exhibit. "But he's probably just around here somewhere."

Robin quickly moved to catch up and stretched his arms above his head, fairly nonchalant for hearing the news that one of his friends was missing. "I haven't played hide-n-seek in a while, but I guess I'm up for it."

Vlad couldn't help the slight grin at the other boy's reply. Robin was odd and a touch too vampire obsessed, but nobody could say that he wasn't adaptable. There was really nobody else who could take these Slayer and vampire antics in stride but somehow, seeing this one normal human doing so gave Vlad hope.

Things maybe weren't as bad as they seemed.

~0~

Robin's family left the day after the three boys visited the museum. Jonno was sad to see them go and he waved more than a little dejectedly as the Branaughs drove back to their clean house. The trip to the museum had been a little odd at first, with Vlad's dad being sick and him being shoved in a closet. But the time with Robin and Vlad afterwards had been fun – the most fun he had gotten in a while. They had explored everything and even invented stories for each unique room. The time they spent together had allowed them to become used to each other and by the end of the day, Jonno felt like he had finally found his place in the group. It made him feel warm and happy to finally be a part of something and to be included.

Jonno watched the Branaugh car turn the corner of the street before he closed the trailer door and turned back inside. He ambled slowly to the kitchen, reluctant to start his homework and wondering what to eat instead. There was not much variety in culinary offerings at the moment, but Jonno settled on a peanut butter sandwich. He was opening the cabinet doors to pull out silverware when he noticed his father sitting at their small kitchen table, a hand pressed against his forehead in what Jonno recognized as distress.

"Hey, Dad," Jonno asked, worried. Maybe his father was catching what Vlad's dad had gotten. He had been a little distant since their return from the museum. "Are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, Jonno." The elder man's eyes focused at the question. "Sit, son. I have something to tell you."

Jonno was a little leery of what his father had to say this time that was so important, but he humored his dad and settled into the seat opposite. "What's up?"

"At the museum, you said you remembered talking to me? Asking me for help?"

"Well, yes." Jonno shifted uncomfortably. "But you said you didn't remember hearing me or anything. I probably just imagined it when some crazy stranger attacked me and put me in that closet, right?"

"Never doubt you own memory, Jonno. If you said that's what happened, then I believe you. Listen, son." The elder Van Helsing leaned in conspiringly, lowering his voice. "When I was at the museum, I was possessed by a vampire. He was the one who took over my body before talking to you and putting you in the closet."

Jonno almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt the sudden urge to cry. "Dad, vampires aren't real."

"I'm not making this up, Jonno. I  _know_ a vampire was in my head. I heard him as clear as day."

"But do you actually remember any of it then? Shoving me in the closet? Talking to me?"

The elder Van Helsing's eyes were shining with an impassioned fervor. "No, that's the point! Of course I don't remember those things because that was the vampire controlling me. Jonno, I'm telling the truth!"

It was at times like this that Jonno wanted to just give up. He had thought yesterday was a great and his father had been doing so well with the Branaughs over. He thought things were maybe getting a little more normal. That maybe other things were finally taking priority. But his father had never stopped thinking about vampires for a second and it had in fact gotten worse. His dad had claimed to see and battle vampires before, but having vampires in his head? That was new and bordering on a different level of unhealthy.

"Dad, you sound crazy. You know that right?"

"But Jonno it was real!"

"Then prove it," Jonno said, worried and scared. "Do you have proof?"

"I don't have anything tangible –"

Jonno abruptly stood up from his chair and lurched back towards the kitchen counter. "Then it didn't happen, Dad! Can't you see? This is all from your imagination."

The elder man followed his son, looking down imploringly. "Then how do you explain being locked in a closet, Jonno?"

"I don't know, okay? It was just a freak thing and nothing came of it. You would never shove me in a closet!"

"It was the vampire who did that."

Jonno slammed his plate down loud enough to send a resounding clang through the trailer. He blinked tears out of his eyes, staring down at his hands before lifting his head to look at his dad. "Vampires. Aren't. Real. Don't ruin this for me again, Dad. I'm finally starting to make friends and to get used to school. Please don't make us move again." His voice broke a little. "I don't know if I can keep doing this if we move."

He turned away from his dad's bewildered stare. He couldn't bear to hear more about vampires. Jonno jumped out the front door and slammed it behind him before sitting down on one of the trailer steps leading to the entrance. It was a warm night with a few fireflies out. The perfect night for camping or talking by the fire. Something a normal son and father would have been doing. But here they were arguing about imaginary creatures like almost every other night.

Jonno took a deep, shaky breath. He had blown up a bit back there, but he would get over it in a bit. He had to. His dad needed him, to stop him from going off the rails completely. And Jonno loved his father too much to not keep trying. Someday it would all make sense and then things could be normal. Then, they could just sit by the fire and talk like any other father and son.

Someday.

* * *

Something a little less intense than the last couple of chapters. Thought some time in Stokely with Robin (and Jonno) would be nice.

As always, please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. I do re-read and check, but I tend to miss a few!

Till next time!


	40. Summer Calm

I do not own Young Dracula, Harry Potter, or anything that could get me sued.

Thank you always and so much for the reviews! It really means a lot to me to read your feedback and I find it so fun to read your speculations for the future.

I wanted to remind again that my updating schedule can be erratic because of life in general. But I'm always thinking of my stories and intend to finish them. Thanks for your patience!

* * *

**Chapter 40: Summer Calm**

Despite popular opinion, Harry Potter liked to believe he was not the type to seek out trouble. It was quite the opposite, really. Trouble usually came to  _him_  on a silver platter served by a waiter named fate. If it were up to him, a lot of things would be different. He would have actual parents, the world would lack a certain dark wizard, and at least one summer would be free of his horrible relatives.

But things weren't up to him. And that was probably why his aunt was currently blowing up like a balloon in the Dursley dining room as he ran to grab his things in a flurry of rushed anger.

Harry had just managed to seize everything – trunk, books, birthday gifts, broom, Hedwig – when his uncle came bursting out towards the front hallway. "Come back here!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his trouser leg in bloody tatters from Aunt Marge's dog. "Come back here and put her right!"

But Harry wasn't going to because his heart was pounding and his head was throbbing with fury and he was  _sick_  of this place. He kicked his trunk open and pulled out his wand, stabbing it in a jerky motion at his whale of an uncle. "She deserved it. She deserved what she got. You keep away from me." Harry fumbled and unlatched the door behind him. "I'm going. I've had enough."

And then he was alone, several streets away on Magnolia Crescent with no place to go and probably a serious breach of the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry under his belt.

The panic would come, he knew. He was in a bad fix and both Hermione and Ron were abroad. There was nobody to help him. But all that mattered right now was how angry he was and how terrible Aunt Marge had been. What right did she have to say those things about his parents? She didn't know anything. They had died protecting him and he physically couldn't stand there doing nothing when she was insulting their names.

He was brimming with emotions (he'd heard Aunt Petunia once try to tell Dudley that being confused and full of feelings were a part of puberty), but he couldn't say that this was anything particularly surprising. The last few weeks had been slowly driving him stir crazy despite his friends' attempts at contact and sometimes he found his head full of thoughts with nowhere to channel them. So much had happened during his second year at Hogwarts and so much had been left unresolved.

Ron and Hermione weren't aware of any loose ends. As far as they knew, the Basilisk had been destroyed, the petrified students were saved, and the diary memory of Tom Riddle could no longer haunt another. But Harry knew that there were still things left unsaid and none of it would be answered until he saw Vlad Dracula again.

Harry had thought of telling his friends what he had seen, how Vlad had really eliminated Tom Riddle. He had even picked up a quill and some parchment to try to write to them. But he had promised Vlad that how the diary had gone hadn't mattered and that the explanation could come when ready.

So now not only was Harry full of unanswered questions, but he was also sitting stranded on the curb with no solution in sight. What would the Muggle police say if they caught him like this with a trunk full of spells and a broomstick?

The Boy-Who Lived stood up, his mind trying to think of ways to get to Gringotts where his parents' fortune was stashed when he felt the back of his neck prickle.

He was being watched. But the street was empty and there were no lights shining from the houses around him. It was late enough that everybody would be in inside now. Yet something kept Harry standing and he tightened his grip on his wand.

He was bending over to grab his things when that prickling feeling came again and this time, he sensed that it was coming from the space between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry stared into the darkness and, almost against his better judgment, whispered, "Lumos."

He wasn't prepared for the large, looming black shape crouched with gleaming eyes staring back at him. Harry gasped, and then tripped on his trunk to land hard in the gutter.

That was how Harry Potter was nearly killed by the Knight Bus. The young wizard barely avoided the giant magical triple-decker and then received perhaps the most harrowing ride to Diagon Alley he had yet to experience. Along the way, the conductor Stan Shunpike explained that the mass murderer Harry had heard about on the Muggle news was actually a wizard who had killed thirteen people with a single curse while on the run from the Ministry. A Voldemort supporter and completely mad was how Stan described the man and the news did nothing to ease Harry's roiling thoughts.

His luck took a rather odd upward turn though when the Minister of Magic himself stood waiting for Harry at the Leaky Cauldron. It was quickly explained that the young wizard would receive no punishment and that everybody was apparently just happy to see the Boy Who Lived safe. Harry didn't quite buy that, particularly since he had received an official warning last summer for Dobby's magic. But it was easy to overlook it when Harry was told he didn't have to return to his relatives' place. Promising Cornelius Fudge to stay within Diagon Alley for the remainder of the summer was probably the easiest promise he'd ever made.

The freedom was odd the first few days. Harry had never been able to wake up whenever he wanted or eat whenever he wanted before outside of Hogwarts. He could go about his day leisurely exploring the shops and work calmly on his school work without hiding under the covers or wondering when he would be yelled at next. The experience was enough to quell his uneasy thoughts and, for a while, life was good.

But one day, when Harry was shopping for his school supplies, he stumbled across a book that spoke of ill omens with a black wolf-like creature on the cover that brought back memory of his brief night out on Magnolia Crescent before the Knight Bus had arrived. The young wizard couldn't take his eyes off of it as the manager of Flourish and Blotts handed him books for the year and the image stayed with him as he headed back to room eleven where he was staying at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry was passing by Quality Quidditch Supplies when he heard an unwelcomingly familiar voice just a little towards one of the alleys between stores. The smart thing probably would have been to keep walking. But he moved closer, curious despite himself and perhaps a little eager for the distraction from his thoughts.

"Your insolence is testing my patience. You have been nothing but unruly and petulant since coming home and I will have none of it. There have been too many negative influences on you lately and I will continue to remove you from those influences if I must, am I clear?"

There was silence, the sort of silence Harry knew well because that was the sort of pause he often had to take when controlling himself around his relatives.

"Yes, Father. I understand. I apologize for my actions."

"As you should. Now go get your supplies. I have business to attend to but I believe you have enough maturity to at least get your belongings without any unnecessary fanfare."

"Yes, Father."

"I shall meet you where discussed. Do be efficient, Draco."

Harry quickly ducked out of the way, behind a throng of people huddled around the Firebolt display in the quidditch store window. On a normal day, Harry would be one of those ogling the broom. But right now he was just concerned with keeping out of Lucius Malfoy's sight. The man strode out into the street, his cloak billowing about him like some aristocrat of old with his eyes pointedly ahead. Harry watched him disappear into the crowd before moving into the small alley where the Malfoy heir still stood.

Draco Malfoy had never looked so subdued. It was a little hard for Harry to reconcile the Slytherin he knew – full of snide comments and superiority oozing from his skin – with the boy in front of him. Draco was dressed impeccably without a blond hair out of place. But there was something in his expression and the way he stood that had Harry talking before he could stop himself with common sense.

"Hey Malfoy." Harry cringed. What was he doing?

Draco seemed to be thinking along the same lines. His eyebrows rose in unspoken incredulity. Then, he was scowling and crossing his arms back to his usual annoying self. "Eavesdropping now, Potter? I thought the great Boy-Who-Lived would have better things to do than listen in on family business."

Ugh. Harry remembered now why he usually steered clear of this particular Slytherin. There was really nobody else could get under his skin like this. "I wasn't eavesdropping."

"Then what were you doing?"

Harry grit his teeth. "Look, I didn't come here to argue with you."

"Well you're doing a really great job of that, clearly –"

"Would you just let me finish?" Harry snapped. "I'm not here to argue with you. I just want to talk."

Draco shifted a bit. His face was unreadable but Harry knew enough by now to recognize that as surprise. "About...?"

The Gryffindor himself wasn't so sure. Harry didn't know what to make of Draco right now. At one point Harry might have called the other boy his enemy. But things clearly weren't what they seemed because the Slytherin had saved both his and Ron's life back against the Basilisk and that was enough to make Harry want to try something different this time around.

"You know," Harry finally lamely replied.

The blond wasn't phased. "We can't talk about what happened, Potter. Not here."

Harry expected that. But it didn't stop him from saying, "Well, I could at least come with you to get your supplies if you're getting them."

"I don't need a leech, Potter."

"How about just some company instead?"

Draco sighed, cutting short his reflex response. "Potter, I don't know what you're doing or what you're trying. But we aren't best buddies now. You have your crowd and I have mine. That's it."

Harry did not say anything in reply. He only looked, really looked, at his classmate and wondered if the slight darkness under Draco's eyes were also due to sleepless nights haunted by dreams of wraiths and monsters. They still argued, still didn't agree on a million and one things. But there was something they had in common now and they couldn't ignore that. Draco was both right and wrong. They did have their own friends, their own circles that they trusted. But those conventions had been thrown out the window when they had stood together against Tom Riddle. Back then, in that moment, they had shared a similar goal and had triumphed because of it. Things couldn't be as black and white anymore no matter how much they both wanted it to be.

Finally, Draco spoke again. "Don't come crying to me when none of this turns out the way you expect it to, Potter. Not as much has changed as you probably think." It wasn't acceptance, but it also hadn't been refusal and that was all the Gryffindor needed.

They left the alleyway together, a width apart but together in an unspoken truce neither had ever once thought possible.

~0~

Vlad was less surprised to read that Harry Potter had blown up his aunt than he probably should have been. It was a rare occasion indeed when the Gryffindor  _wasn't_  in the Daily Prophet. And if Harry's aunt was anything like the rest of his relatives then the young vampire couldn't exactly blame him for turning the woman into a balloon. Vlad just ran a hand over his eyes and placed the wizard paper down on the dining table.

"Breakfast, young master!" Renfield announced before revealing yet another plate of dubious food.

The young vampire groaned. "Renfield, what is this?"

"Centipede mash, a new specialty!"

"I think I'm good," Vlad winced. "I'm not too hungry."

"I wonder why," Ingrid teased from across the table. "Maybe it's all those  _sweets_  you keep on bringing from school…"

"A few sweets won't hurt."

Ingrid shrugged and turned back to examining her nails. "Dad begs to differ. A real vampire would take care of their teeth instead of rotting them with sugar."

Vlad scowled and had to try very hard not to stick his tongue out at his sister. So what if he had developed a soft spot for candy lately? It was all the rage with his summer classmates and Robin had a continuous supply of them. They were delicious and it felt good to have something so mundane in common with the others for a change.

"Don't act like you're not still eating them," Ingrid continued. "You might have fooled dad when you let him burn your first stash but I know a chocolate stain when I see one."

Vlad hastily glanced down and blanched a little at the small mark on his school uniform. "Oh bats," he muttered. " _Tergeo_." A snap of his fingers and a spell later left his clothes unmarked. He glanced back up at his sister slyly. "You were saying?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes at the display. "It's your funeral. I won't be the one under Renfield's teeth inspection."

Vlad shrugged off her words and stood up, grabbing his book and duffel bags he had packed the day before. "Tell Dad I'll be out tonight."

"Doing what exactly?"

"School trip. It's an overnight thing."

Ingrid pursed her lips. "You've been having an awful lot of school trips lately. And I would know since there are none during the school year."

"Exactly." Vlad waved a hand absently at her skepticism. "It's different during the summer."

"Well don't expect me to be your messenger. Tell Dad yourself."

Vlad didn't think so. "Would you look at the time! I'm going to be late. See you later, Ingrid."

"Vlad –!"

But the young vampire was already out the great double doors and leaving the vampire world behind him. He wasn't too concerned about Ingrid neglecting to tell his father. Vlad had left a note with Nox so that the feline could deliver the notice to the Count once he woke up in the evening. His father would be notified one way or another and that's all that mattered. The elder vampire had been lenient after the Van Helsing encounter especially since Vlad had temporarily conceded to flying lessons as a form of appeasement. Vlad didn't try very hard, of course, but he made a good show of it so that the Count would be convinced that his son was no longer actively pursuing mortality for the time being.

All that trouble was worth it. The last couple of weeks had been some of the most carefree he had ever had. Jonno and Robin made good friends despite the complete mismatch they all made and their summer had been spent dodging Jonno's vampire hunting lessons, hanging by the lake, or exploring the corners of town. None of them were part of the normal school crowd by any means still but none of it mattered when they had a blast amongst themselves. Sometimes Robin and Vlad talked privately about vampires, but it was often mediated by Jonno's presence.

Vlad's summer had somehow managed to turn out alright despite its rocky beginning and for once he could say with confidence that he would miss leaving home. Hogwarts was still close to his heart, but things were complicated there right now and Draco had yet to respond to any of his letters. So many things Vlad had to deal with.

But not today. Today, he would be going to a sleepover at Robin's place after school and he was excited for a night of fun.

It took him under twenty minutes to make to campus and upon seeing the school gates, he waved at his friends underneath one of the trees outside. It felt good to be able to go to class and know that there would be people waiting for him. They were just as happy to see him as he was to see them and it was this sort of simplicity Vlad wished he could maintain forever.

Classes were out before long and they wasted no time rushing to Robin's front door where Mrs. Branaugh greeted them with smothering hugs and plates full of treats. The three ate their fill with voracious appetites only growing boys could have before tossing their belongings into Robin's room and running back out to hit their favorite spots. The ice cream shop and arcade were first on the list before they headed to the movies to watch the newest zombie release Robin so desperately wanted to see. The showing was bland (Vlad had seen worse on a real life basis already), but it was an experience to share a bucket of popcorn that eventually devolved into a laughing war of tossed kernels. They were very nearly thrown out, but Jonno worked some puppy dog eyes to keep them in as long as they stayed silent.

When the movie finished, the sun was already below the horizon just in time for them to return to Robin's home for dinner. Vlad felt warm and content, eating chicken that wasn't marinated in months old bug juice and surrounded by a loud but welcoming throng of people. The rest of the night disappeared in a series of game boards, attempts at scary stories, and finally climbing to the roof to watch the sky despite Mrs. Branaugh's warnings against it.

It had all gone by too quickly and Vlad sighed at the thought.

"Something wrong?" Robin asked, turning his head to look at the young vampire. "Is it too cold up here?"

"No, it's nothing," Vlad shook his head. "Just thinking that I'll miss this."

"I will too," Robin responded and then snickered a little when Jonno let out a small snore. "And I'm sure Jonno agrees."

The young vampire laughed, stifling it with a hand. "You were right you know. He's a good guy."

"Told you it would work. He doesn't remember a thing."

Vlad looked at the other boy, considering. The hypnotism seemed to hold. A tendril of hope dared to worm its way into the young vampire's chest thinking maybe all of this would indeed be for the better.

"Do you have to leave?" Robin finally asked.

Vlad let out a breath. "My dad would have a fit if I didn't."

"And you like it there more than you do here."

"That's not it," the young vampire frowned. He glanced over at his mortal friend, trying to see if there was a trace of resentment there. "I don't like one more than the other. I just…can't not go. I have a lot of things I would be leaving behind. But I'll be back. I keep in touch, don't I?"

"It's not the same, you know." Robin was staring blankly at the stars above them. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm dreaming all of this up. Jonno helps but he doesn't want to talk about anything related to vampires. You at least understand and can tell me for sure that this isn't all in my head."

Vlad felt guilt again. He  _was_ leaving his friend behind. But he couldn't just forget about Hogwarts and Draco and an entire wizarding world. They had made up the majority of his last two years, even if parts had been literally life threatening. He could only look sadly at Robin and say, "I'm sorry. I know that isn't much but I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Robin grinned back, a little subdued. "I know I'm just whining and you really do send Nox a lot with letters. I'm just going to miss my friend."

Vlad felt his eyes sting and his throat tighten. He smiled to himself, happy. "I'll miss you too, Robin."

"Look at us being all sentimental." Robin playfully punched Vlad's shoulder. "A toast then. To next summer."

The young vampire laughed. "A toast with what?"

"Caramel!" Robin brandished two small candies wrapped in clear paper. "Candy fixes everything."

Vlad took the offered sweet and quickly unwrapped it. They tapped their caramels in mock salute before both boys popped the treat into their mouths, chewing.

"Ow!" Vlad grabbed his jaw in pain.

Robin looked over in alarm. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Jonno blinked in confusion, waking up to the sudden noise. "What did I miss? Wait, are you guys eating candy without me?"

"My tooth hurts!" Vlad exclaimed. Fear bled into his thoughts. Was it finally happening? Were his fangs coming in…?

Jonno burst out laughing. "Oh, karma!"

Vlad was having his world slowly dissolve around him in panic, but he still managed to ask, "What are you talking about?"

"You have a cavity! We've eaten too many sweets." Jonno fell into another fit of cackles. "I got one just a few days ago too. My dad wasn't too happy about it."

Vlad blinked once. Then twice. And then he was groaning in relief and burying his face in his hands. "You're kidding. My family is never going to let me live this down."

The three of them climbed back down into Robin's room, the two human boys laughing the whole way at the vampire's expense. Still, Vlad wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world and soon, he was laughing with them.

It had been a good summer.

~0~

Severus Snape was not a man who trusted easily. He was the sort of person to look for the worst in everyone and to suspect even the slightest of missteps. That sort of mindset might have been described as unhealthy by some. But it had saved his life more times than he could count and he wasn't about to abandon it anytime soon.

The potions master had been receiving questionable signals regarding Vladimir Dracula since the day the boy had stepped into class. His last name, his voracious yet quiet talent, his gentle nature, his panic during one particular detention. So many small yet telling incidents that all seemed disconnected but all tied back to one Romanian boy who seemed to have come out of the woodwork without warning. And probably worst of all was his close acquaintance with his godson, Draco.

Lucius had been talking about it non-stop since the end of the last school year. It was hard not to when both Dracula and Malfoy boys had somehow gotten themselves tangled up in a Potter mess. That alone was enough to tell Severus that Vladimir Dracula was more than he seemed. The potions master suspected the boy hadn't been telling the truth – at least not the whole truth – when he had retold what had happened in the Chamber when speaking to Dumbledore. But there was no evidence of it. All Severus could say for sure was that Lucius now wanted Draco to have nothing to do with the Dracula boy anymore despite the life debt still effect, and was willing to do anything to make that happen. From what the potions master had heard, Draco had been subjected to a summer's worth of grounding consisting of double the tutoring to pick up his training and a complete cut-off from outside contact. Draco had been effectively shut in Malfoy manor for the greater part of three months and Lucius had been determined to return his son to the obedient heir the boy had previously been on the path towards.

Severus had stopped by once, a week before classes were set to begin once again, and saw his godson the most miserable he had probably ever been while staying at home. Draco was normally exuberant and proud to be learning all the things he must to take up the Malfoy name. But not this time. Draco was going through the motions, saying all the right things and completing everything as expected. But there was a lack of enthusiasm and a rebelliousness there that the potions master had been hoping wouldn't crop up until the child's fourth year at least.

There was no denying it now. Draco was different than he had been going into Hogwarts and Vladimir Dracula was undoubtedly the cause.

It was enough to give Severus a headache. He had an idea that the coming year was shaping up to be a mess and it was only confirmed when he learned who would be taking up the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position.

Merlin give him patience. He would certainly need it.

* * *

Another calm shorter chapter. I thought to give Vlad a break - poor guy needs it. I found it quite fun to write Harry and Draco alone and trying to figure out where they stand with one another.

Vlad is headed back to Hogwarts in the next chapter. Faster than the previous summer, I know, but I'm planning to have more Stokely-related events during the school year this time around.

As always, please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. I do re-read and check, but I do miss some things especially since this is written in what free time I have!

Till next time!


	41. Dementors and Dreams

I do not own Young Dracula, Harry Potter, or anything that could get me sued.

Thank you always for the reviews! I love reading them and they inspire me.

I also wanted to remind that my updating schedule can be erratic because of life in general. But I'm always thinking of my stories and do intend to finish them. Thank you for your patience!

* * *

**Chapter 41: Dementors and Dreams**

Vlad found himself barely on time for the Hogwarts Express yet again, stalled by his last minute farewells. His departure from home had been more or less the same; Ingrid had thrown him a parting glance, Zoltan had wished him good luck, and Renfield had tried to offer some mysterious plate of food in yet another failed goodbye meal. Robin and Jonno though, had surprised him a few days prior by giving him a tie-dyed t-shirt emblazoned with the words "cavity gang" on it. It had become a running joke between them once Robin had found out he too had gained a toothache. Vlad's father had been less than enthused at the reminder of his son's lack of oral hygiene, but the young vampire had been enormously pleased and touched with the gift.

The Count dropped him off at the station as tradition. "Try not to wear that new hideous Breather shirt, Vladdy," his father had sighed before bending down to grip his son's face in his hands. "And do me proud again this year."

Vlad had other plans though. He intended to keep out of trouble this time around. A distinct lack of a certain house elf mysteriously appearing with warnings of a deadly attack on the school was a good start. And when several Slytherin housemates greeted him as he passed through the compartments on the train, the young vampire felt a touch better. His relations with the rest of his House had warmed considerably since his first year. Although he was far from close to any of them, they were now comfortable enough around each other to forgo the chillingly imposed distance. Vlad was just another Slytherin to them now who really didn't stir too much ruckus on his own and earned them House points by doing well on his subjects. Even his wandless magic and odd choice to sit alone in the center of each class were just facts of life now. Only incoming First Years were really shocked anymore.

The young vampire was almost at the last of the compartments where Draco and several of his dorm mates usually sat when one of the sliding doors abruptly opened to reveal Harry stepping out. Vlad stopped in his tracks and the two boys stared at each other for a moment, both a little at a loss for words. There was still so much left unsaid after the Chamber of Secrets that the young vampire wasn't sure how to begin.

"Well, don't stare too much you two," drawled the very familiar tone of one Malfoy heir. "It isn't like you're blocking the hall or anything."

Vlad looked beyond Harry's form and spotted his blond friend at the last compartment. He was about to respond when Harry answered, "Patience is a virtue, Malfoy."

"Right, and Merlin is my uncle." Then, to the young vampire's shock, Draco turned away from Harry and continued, "Come on, Vlad, the train is about to leave the station."

Vlad had to try very hard not to gape. Had Draco and Harry just exchanged barbs without exploding into a public argument? He didn't have much time to think on it though because the lurch of the floor beneath the young vampire told him their journey was starting.

The compartment where Draco was waiting was filled with the usual Slytherin suspects. Theo and Blaise nodded in greeting as Vlad placed his trunk on one of the storage racks, lifting the feather-light charm on it as he did so.

The boys were already in a heated conversation when the young vampire was finally settled into the seats. The topic of the hour, it seemed, was of their upcoming visiting privileges to Hogsmeade as Third Years. Theo excitedly spoke of Honeydukes, the town's sweetshop, while Blaise mentioned the distinctly haunted Shrieking Shack. Draco expressed that he wasn't particularly ecstatic but even he could not hide the touch of interest in his voice as they wove through the possibility of exploring Zonko's Joke Shop, Sprintwitches Sporting Needs, and all other variety of offerings.

The train chugged north as they spoke amongst themselves, their conversation only pausing once around mid-afternoon when the food cart rolled by. None of them noticed the sky darkening and the clouds coalescing until a particularly harsh bout of wind rattled the compartment. They all paused, glancing out the window to see rain coming down heavily.

"That's kind of odd," Blaise noted. "Hopefully when we arrive it will lighten up."

The rest of them nodded in agreement, just as the train began to slow.

"Speaking of arriving," Draco sighed, "I suppose we'll have to get into the carriages in this downpour."

Vlad frowned. "We can't be there yet. It's too early."

"Then why is the train stopping?"

The train halted still not even a moment later. Several thuds told them several trunks had fallen out of place and the rain seemed louder against the windows.

Theo looked at the compartment door in confusion. "What's going on?"

Blaise was already cleaning off window frost – frost that distinctly hadn't been there minutes ago – to take a look outside. "I can't see anything. There's too much fog." He squinted. "Wait…I think I see something coming on board."

Then suddenly the lights on the train all winked out simultaneously and they were left in darkness. Only dim light from the outside barely slipping past the thick clouds gave an outline of the surroundings.

Vlad blinked once, his vision unaffected by the light change. The other boys, however, were looking around almost blindly to gain some bearing. The young vampire saw Draco about to step on Theo's foot and hastily said, "Wait. Nobody move. I think you're – we're – all going to just hit each other." He saw their eyes turn towards the sound of his voice. "Let's wait this out. There's no point in trying to walk around in the dark."

Intense cold, cold Vlad could feel sink into his bones, suddenly swept over the compartment. The young vampire shivered and wondered what in bat's name was happening. He could see his breath in the air and the other boys were glancing around fearfully.

Distantly, Vlad thought he heard voices, some older man's voice saying something. But his attention was diverted when the compartment door began opening of its own accord. He instinctively backed up, bumping into Theo next to him but neither of them dared say a word because what had been cold darkness before was now a pervading weight around the room in a choking thickness.

Vlad could suddenly barely breathe and he watched with slight horror as a skeletal, rotting hand (gray-green and peeled and inhuman) held the door open. Towering in the doorway was a cloaked figure hovering with its face completely concealed by its hood. It took a single, rattling breath that seemed to be tasting and searching for something other than air before it turned its attention to Vlad.

The young vampire felt like a deer in headlights. He trembled as the thing stretched a hand out, and tried to force himself to move or to cast a spell or do anything. But Vlad was frozen and when the cold, slimy rotting thing touched his cheek, he was falling, the world suddenly disappearing as darkness closed around him…

~0~

Vlad jolted up, heaving a gasp and then choking as he inadvertently inhaled dirt from the ground he was lying face-down on. When he finally cleared his throat, he glanced around hoping for some semblance of sanity. But what he saw only confused him more: thick forest not unlike the ones near his home in Transylvania surrounded him for an indeterminate amount of space. The young vampire frowned and ran a hand through his hair, thinking. He was supposed to be on the way to Hogwarts, when he had encountered some sort of wraith. How was it that he was now somewhere else entirely?

" _Lost?"_

Vlad whirled around, looking for the source of the voice. "Where am I? Who are you?"

_"Don't play coy. You know who I am."_

"I clearly don't," the young vampire muttered back, the inklings of recognition tickling the back of his mind. "Where am I?"

_"You should know. You picked this, after all."_

"I don't know what you're saying. I didn't pick anything."

_"Perhaps not consciously, you didn't."_

Vlad thought he recognized the voice now if he really focused. A voice he didn't want to remember. Panic began to swell inside of his chest and he needed to leave now before things got out of hand, before things became too clear –

Vlad thought he heard the voice, his own voice but twisted, laugh. " _It doesn't matter if you leave now. You'll be back."_

~0~

A stinging hex, sharp and strong, hit Vlad in his side.

"Ow!" Vlad jolted up in pain and smacked his head against Draco's face that had been looking over him.

Draco yelped. "Merlin…!"

The compartment was no longer dark. The lights were back and the train was already moving again as if the cold had never been there. Vlad was on the floor with the other boys looking down at him. Draco had his wand in hand, clearly the one to have cast the stinging spell while the others were kneeling close. The young vampire could feel himself trembling a little still, no longer cold but almost unbearably tired.

"What happened?" Vlad asked.

"It was dark," Blaise explained. "None of us saw what was happening until some bright flash of light lit the outside hall and scared the Dementor away."

A new voice, the voice of the older man Vlad had heard before, supplemented, "Yes, a Dementor from Azkaban."

The young vampire turned and saw a stranger kneeling behind him. He looked fatigued with dark circles under his eyes and clothes that looked like they hadn't seen upkeep in some time. His light brown hair was flecked with gray. He seemed nice enough but when their eyes met both of them immediately tensed.

Vlad narrowed his eyes. "And you are?"

"You'll be calling me Professor Lupin." The calm in the man's voice was replaced by something on edge. Lupin blinked and shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs before reaching into his coat to pull out an enormous bar of chocolate. The bar was already broken into several pieces and Lupin offered one to Vlad. "Eat this. It will make you feel better."

The young vampire reluctantly took the chocolate. "I'll be fine."

"Don't be stubborn. That will get rid of the cold faster." Lupin glanced about, beginning to hear scared questions and voices from the other compartments. In response, the man hastily stood up before Vlad could say anything further. "If you'll excuse me, I must check on the other students now." 

Once the professor was out of listening range, Draco mused, "I don't think I've ever seen a teacher dislike you at first sight."

Vlad decided to ignore the comment. "Am I the only one who passed out?"

"I'm not so sure you could call it passing out," Theo shrugged. "You looked more…asleep than anything else."

"Asleep?"

"Not sure how else to describe it, Dracula. You were out like a light."

Vlad took a moment to look at all of the boys around him. "You…all aren't surprised by this. You're too calm."

They all glanced at each other before Draco answered. "Well, we  _are_  surprised that the Dementors came on board. But you're not wrong when you say we knew there would be Dementors around."

"Let me guess, your families knew from the Ministry. This must be Ministry related."

Draco nodded. "It isn't common knowledge yet, but it hasn't exactly been a secret either. It will probably even be announced during the Welcoming Feast. But since we're on the topic, the Dementors are here to guard the grounds and to search for Sirius Black."

Vlad had heard about the escapee. It was hard not to when it was plastered all over the Daily Prophet. "Shouldn't the students have been told that before coming to school?"

"Probably. But even if parents disapproved there really isn't anything that can be done. The Dementors apparently took it personally when Black escaped Azkaban and would have come searching anyway."

"But why Hogwarts specifically? What makes them think Black will be here?"

Again, that glance among the Slytherin boys. "Black has connections with Potter."

Of course. Of course it was related to Harry somehow. Upon hearing that, Vlad just groaned and hauled himself up on to the seats of the compartment again.

They spent the remainder of the trip is relative silence, each of them lost in thought. Vlad ate the chocolate, but it did little for him. He wasn't cold like he had been before, just exhausted like he had been awake for days. He tried not to think about what his vision or dream in the woods had meant. Was that something the Dementors had induced? The young vampire didn't know and his mind turned instead to the new professor. Lupin could only be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since Lockhart had declined to return to his post. His presence on the train had probably been a security measure on the school's part in case the Dementors went out of hand. Vlad's thoughts continued to churn as the train traveled on. 

When they finally arrived to the station, they all exited with their trunks in tow. Many students were still clamoring for answers, a general giant ruckus. But the Slytherin boys wasted no time in finding a coach (that Vlad noted was pulled by some skeletal winged horses) to take them up to the castle. On the trip past the enormous wrought iron gates flanked by stone columns, two more Dementors were standing on guard. When they passed, Vlad felt his eyelids grow heavy and a suffocating sleepiness almost overwhelmed him. He had to tap his forehead against the cool glass window to wake himself again.

The Welcome Feast brought a myriad of news. The headmaster indeed announced the purpose of the Dementor's presence, warning all students the dangers of approaching any Demetor and informing them that nobody was to leave the grounds without permission. "Give the no reason to harm you," Headmaster Dumbledore said grimly.

Then followed the announcement of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Lupin. Upon seeing the man again, Vlad felt an intense flash of resentment and he noticed that Professor Snape shared the sentiment. The amount of loathing in the Slytherin Head of House's face could have withered anything. News of Professor Kettleburn's retirement was met with slightly more enthusiasm and particularly loud claps from the Gryffindor table filled the hall when Hagrid was announced to be the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher.

The young vampire was glad to retire to the Slytherin dorms when the night finally ended. He trudged, still exhausted, towards his bed where Nox was already curled up asleep. Just as Vlad was about to collapse on to his mattress, he felt somebody grasp his arm.

"You okay?" It was Draco, his brow furrowed.

Vlad smiled in appreciation at the concern, suddenly uplifted and reminded why – despite everything that had happened recently – Hogwarts was like a second home. "Yeah, I will be."

* * *

Start of the new year! I'm excited to write Third Year.

As always, please forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. I do try to edit, but I often miss some things.

Till next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, that was pretty short. Just a taste I suppose :) I have been writing this story on FFnet for a while so I have 36 chapters written. I will post them on here and any other updates on here now as well! 
> 
> Notes I wrote on my FFnet account:
> 
> It's sort of fun writing this all from Vlad's POV. I just got hooked on Young Dracula and yes, I know it's a "kids" show but its premise just fits so well in the Harry Potter world because there are vampires that exist, but are never expounded upon. Why not put the Young Dracula universe in there?
> 
> Anyway kudos to all of you guys out there who watch the show too.
> 
> Till Next Time!
> 
> PS No, I don't support the Count's treatment of Ingrid (who does?). I'm just staying true to character.


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